The Trajectory of Laughter
by Guilty Bird
Summary: Some say laughter is the cure for everything, but they obviously never heard Miyuki laugh... [Time Travel][Miyuki x Sawamura]
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

* * *

_Pant...pant..._

As his shoulders heaved, a bead of sweat slowly made its way down the tip of his nose. The heat had solidified and was so overwhelming, he could almost touch it. The crowd was screaming incomprehensibly; the cheering squad was blowing their horns; the band's trumpets were raised toward the sky as the brass sound clearly rang down to the mound.

His eyes glanced at the scoreboard. Bottom of the 9th, Seidō High leading 4-3. Two outs, but the bases were loaded with a full count. Inashiro wasn't a national-level team for nothing, as shown by how far they'd pushed Seidō's pitchers. Furuya had done his best, but he'd started getting hit the second time around through the lineup, and after giving up two hits and then two walks in a row in the bottom of the 6th inning, Furuya had been switched out.

Since taking over, he'd managed to shut out their lineup up until now, but due to a fielding error, a batter had managed to get on base. The next batter had bunted, advancing the runner, and then the lineup had come around back to the leadoff batters who'd lived up to their name by hitting grounders and getting on base. If he could shut-out the current batter – their cleanup, who was currently glaring daggers at him from the batter's box – Seidō would win and advance to the Nationals at Kōshien. If he walked the batter – or worse, got hit – Inashiro would tie the score and even if they didn't score again, they would go into extra innings.

It was almost like his first year all over again. Back then, he'd faced off against Shirakawa and lost to the pressure. With a hit-by-pitch, he had allowed Inashiro a runner on base and helped kickstart their momentum which would ultimately lead to Seidō's turnaround loss.

But he was different now from who he'd been two years ago.

He could feel the acute stares of his teammates on his back, could feel the weight of the number 1 on his back, could feel the piercing gaze of a certain person who he knew must be watching from the stands...

He breathed in deeply, and then locked gazes with Okumura, who held the mitt out from the catcher's box.

"_Give me your best pitch," _Okumura signaled. He nodded and raised his mitt to his face, concentrating on the batter standing before him. If anything, at least the loaded bases meant he didn't have to worry about anyone stealing a base.

It was just him and the batter. This one batter who stood in the way between him and Kōshien. Between him and...

He coiled his body, raising his front foot.

_As if I'd let him._

Slamming his foot down on the mound, he released the ball.

The batter swung.

And...

"_**STRIKE! BATTER OUT!**_"

The crowd leapt to their feet and exploded into applause and cheers. His teammates were screaming, running towards him with wild, gloriously happy looks on their faces. Back in the dugout, to his surprise, tears were streaming down the assistant director's face.

"_**THE GAME ENDS WITH A GREAT PITCH BY SEIDŌ'S ACE! AS THE WINNER OF THE 120TH WEST TOKYO TOURNAMENT FINALS, SEIDŌ ADVANCES TO KŌSHIEN FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 8 YEARS!**_"

Even as he was swarmed by his teammates, his eyes swept the cheering stands, looking for the one face that mattered to him the most: the person he'd thrown that ball for – the person who should have been there to catch it.

But before he could find him, his teammates had buried him, blocking his view. With a shrug, taking comfort in the thought that they could celebrate together later, he let himself revel in the sheer sweet exhilaration of victory.

After lining up and shaking hands with the despondent Inashiro team, they raced back to the dugout to collect their equipment. Laughing and clamoring loudly amongst each other, he was about to leave with the others when the assistant coach called out to him to stay behind. Waving off Haruichi to go ahead of him, he turned towards her.

She had stopped crying, but her eyes were still red.

"Hey hey, why were you crying?" he asked, grinning. "We won!"

"Sawamura..." said Rei seriously. The grin slid off his face.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I don't want to ruin this moment for you, but I know you'd want to know."

"What...?"

She told him, and for a long minute that seemed to stretch for an eternity, he didn't respond. And then –

"You must be joking," he said in a flat voice.

"I'm sorry," she repeated helplessly.

It was silent except for the distant roaring of the crowd, which was beginning to sound like a sick joke. Then there was a clanking sound as the bat he'd been carrying on his back slid off his shoulder and clattered on to the ground. With a thump, his baseball cap followed, slipping from his hand. The last to go was the winning baseball he'd been tightly clutching in his other hand. That too, fell to the ground.

And then turning on his heel, Eijun left the dugout without looking back.

* * *

Haruichi was starting to feel rather light-headed from the rising fumes of the incense, but he didn't move from his seiza position.

If he looked around, everyone including him was wearing black. Except for the occasional hushed murmuring and suppressed sobbing, it was quiet. And if he looked up at the centerpiece of the arranged flowers...

It was unreal looking up at the face in the portrait and realizing that _this was it_. Haruichi almost expected the older boy to suddenly appear around the corner with a sly smile on his face and reveal that it was some elaborate trick. It just didn't seem possible that someone as – well, _talented_ and _intelligent_ as him could be gone forever.

_But then again, it hadn't seemed possible at the time either for Miyuki-senpai to not be able to play baseball anymore..._

On his right, Kuramochi shifted and got to his feet. With reddened eyes, he bowed once in the direction of Miyuki's portrait and then left the room.

From the Seidō baseball team, Kuramochi had been one of the ones hit hardest with the news. He'd been vice captain while Miyuki was captain, and after Miyuki's accident in the Fall Tournament, had taken over as captain. And before that, they'd always been the closest to each other in personality and often hung out together in their classroom.

However, if he had to say, the one who'd been hit hardest had to be Eijun.

Having been sitting on Kuramochi's other side, Haruichi could see his friend now that Seidō's ex-vice captain had left. He was in the exact same position as he'd been two hours ago when the wake began. His hands were on his lap, his back was straight, and his eyes bored directly in front of him – the perfect textbook seiza, which was in and of itself unusual for Eijun.

His face was blank and motionless, and if Haruichi hadn't known better, he'd have thought that it was Eijun's death they were mourning that day. But no – ever so imperceptibly, his chest was slowly rising up and down with every slow breath he took.

To be honest, Haruichi did not completely understand Eijun and Miyuki's relationship with each other.

Sure, Eijun had said in passing before that he had initially come to Seidō in hopes of forming a battery with Miyuki, who had also acknowledged Eijun's potential every now and then, giving him tips and helping him practice pitching. But for the most part, Miyuki had been Furuya's catcher because Furuya had been the team's ace their second year. And obviously after Miyuki's accident, they hadn't been able to form a battery again.

But Eijun had been one of Miyuki's most frequent visitors while he was in the hospital. When Miyuki came back to school, he'd occasionally come by to the baseball field to give pointers to Eijun. And in return, Haruichi had often seen Eijun practicing his pitches late into the night, driven to improve even more than before. Clearly, some sort of bond had formed between the two at some point – a bond strong enough to push Eijun beyond his limits.

To everyone's amazement, Eijun's growth surpassed even their most wildest expectations, significantly increasing in both speed and control while retaining their natural erratically moving motion. By the end of the fall tournaments, everyone in the West Tokyo region knew his name. They'd started calling him the best southpaw in the region and the second Narumiya, the latter of which annoyed the pitcher to no end.

And finally, just a few days ago, Seidō had defeated their long-time rival Inashiro at the West Tokyo finals, to advance to Kōshien...

But judging by the cold, emotionless expression that looked so out of place on Eijun's face, Haruichi wasn't sure if their ace pitcher was ready to step foot on the baseball diamond anytime soon.

* * *

It was only after he'd gotten inside the shower and turned on the hot water, that Eijun let himself go. As soon as the water began pounding down on him, his shoulders began to heave and a loud sob tore itself from his lips, echoing through the stall. The tears streaming down his face mixed with the heavy water pouring down from the showerhead. Raising a hand, he wiped away some of the snot and slime coming out of his nose, not caring about how he must look like at the moment.

If Miyuki had been there, he'd probably have laughed in that snarky way of his and told him he looked absolutely pitiful.

But even thinking about what could've been – what should've been – made it worse, and he cried and cried until there was nothing left to come out, and then it was just the water, which had turned cold a long time ago.

All the strength in his legs had gone, and he let himself fall to the floor of the shower stall. Naked and cold, he curled up into fetal position, shivering, feeling the water poking down sharply on his back.

"_You're coming to see us play, right?" _

He'd called Miyuki the night before the final game against Inashiro. There'd been a brief pause. And then –

"_Of course."_

Eijun had let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Despite how easygoing and relaxed Miyuki had seemed every time he came over to the field to coach him, he knew how hard it had been for the ex-catcher. It must have been agonizing to see everyone else working hard to achieve their dream of Kōshien, and knowing that he could never be a part of the group again.

"_Can you do it?"_ Miyuki's voice had interrupted him in the middle of his reverie. _"Can you lead Seidō to Kōshien?"_

"_Yes," _Eijun replied without hesitation.

"_Good."_

"_I...I wish you were catching for me." _He knew it wasn't fair of him to say it, but he couldn't help feeling the way he did. And he wanted Miyuki to understand.

A long pause.

"_Okumura is a good catcher."_

"_I know."_

Another long pause.

"_I'll be watching tomorrow. Throw your best pitches."_

"_I will." _Eijun hesitated, and then added in a halting voice, _"I'll be throwing them to you in my mind."_

Miyuki had laughed then, and then hung up. And that had been the last time they'd talked – would be the last time they ever talked.

It haunted him – the memory of Miyuki's last laugh. No matter how hard he tried, Eijun couldn't tell if it had been Miyuki's usual laugh, or if there had been something else in it.

_Please, God._

He was starting to grow light-headed. His body was cold as ice, but at some point he had stopped shivering.

_If you exist, this is the first and last time I'll ever ask you for anything._

Dazed, he watched the stream of water continue to pound down on the water around his face. The light was starting to fade.

_I can't deal with this. I don't need anything else. I don't care what happens. I don't care about Kōshien. I just want to hear it one more time –_

* * *

...

...

...

Eijun's eyes snapped open.

It was dark, and for a second he wondered if he was lying down on the bench in the dugout, before he realized that he was much too comfortable for that to be true.

Rising up, bedcovers fell down in front of him. Faint rays of light were streaming through the curtains on his left, and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he realized that he was in his dorm room.

Confused, he got up – and immediately stumbled over a controller on the floor. Hissing in pain, he dropped to the ground. Why was there a game controller in the room? Neither Yūki nor Okumura played games, and he didn't own any consoles. Had Seto come by again and forgotten it here?

Getting back up, Eijun vindictively kicked it aside. How had he gotten back in his room anyways? Had he passed out during a practice match and been brought back to his room? He had been working himself rather hard lately, but passing out on the field would be a first for him.

That was bad. He was the ace after all, and with the summer Kōshien tournament coming up, he had to make sure to stay in good condition. It was up to him to lead Seidō to Kōshien after all. He'd made a promise after all.

_That's right. A promise with...who was it again?_

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the dull ache he'd felt since waking up. It wouldn't do to trouble himself with unnecessary details – it'd only affect his pitching negatively. Quickly getting dressed into his baseball uniform, he left the room, slamming the door behind him with a great yawn.

It must have rained overnight, for the mist was thick, making it hard to see the grounds. The sun was only just beginning to rise, leaving most of the field in grey shadow.

Shivering, Eijun hurried through the fog. He was late, but hopefully the coach would understand. When he finally spotted in the distance a large body of figures standing in formation, he perked up and picked up his pace.

"...Hiroshi from Miyagawa Shinia!"

Eijun raised an eyebrow. Wasn't that Ōshima's voice? What was he talking about?

"I hope to play shortstop! I have confidence in my defense!"

As soon as his mind processed the words, he stopped cold. Instinctively, he ducked behind the shed. What was going on? Wasn't Ōshima already on the first string? Why was he talking like a newly recruited first-year vying for a spot on the lineup? Was the coach scrambling the team or something?

_...I'm not about to be replaced, am I? _

Something hard suddenly bumped into his back.

"Ow!"

Annoyed, he looked behind him, a withering retort at the tip of his tongue. He froze, as a boy with black box glasses and a baseball cap turned to the side looked back at him, rubbing his head.

Eijun's hands fell to his sides. The events of the past few days that he'd somehow managed to block flashed through his mind's eye, ending with the memory of strong incense fumes that made his eyes water...

Recognition flickered in the other boy's eyes and he pointed a finger at him.

"Sawamura...right?"

Eijun continued staring at the boy, his heart starting to pound in his chest. His mouth fell open, and a sound not unlike that of a drowning goldfish escaped his lungs.

What was going on? Why did he look shorter? And so much younger? And more importantly –

_How is he...?_

"What's the matter with you?"

"...Miyuki?" he asked weakly.

The boy kneeling before him cocked his head in response, and then suddenly, understanding filled his expression.

"Oh so you decided to join the school in the end?"

_Please, God. I just want to hear it one more time...his – _

Miyuki's face twisted gleefully, and he let loose an unpleasant braying laugh that rattled his nerves.

"Late on your first day, huh? Treating the important stuff the same way as always, aren't you?"

_..._

"I don't want to hear that from you!"

"Haha!"

* * *

**A/N: **About this fic –

+ Because it starts out as a time travel fic, **Sawamura will already be a pretty damn amazing ace pitcher**. The canon exists to show his growth, so people can read the manga/watch the anime for that.

+ This is a **Sawamura x Miyuki** fic, but will not be (all) about fluff and slash kinkiness. I love Diamond no Ace because of the team camaraderie and the exciting games, and this fic will try to retain some of that.

+ However...my knowledge of baseball strategy is limited since I've never played it myself. I do research for all my stories of course, but I will not go in too much depth into game strategy because I don't know much about it.

+ I am up-to-date on the manga raws, which is currently ahead of the scanlations by over 100 chapters. However, you do not have to read all that to understand this story, since I mostly divert from it anyways.

At the end of every chapter, I'll be sharing some baseball terms/player stats/notes of interest, for those fans of Diamond no Ace who don't know about the game in great detail (like myself), but would like to know more.

* * *

**- Glossary -**

Full count = The count is at three balls and two strikes. This means that the next pitch will either result in a walk or a strikeout. If they want to avoid a walk, the pitcher typically wants to throw in the strike zone at a full count, which limits his pitches and makes it easier for the batter to predict what it will be.

Hit-by-pitch = The pitcher (accidentally) hits the batter with the pitch, which gives the batter a free pass to go on base. Also called a "dead ball" in Japanese baseball.

Kōshien = In Japanese high school baseball, the biggest tournaments are the Spring Kōshien and the Summer Kōshien, named after the famous stadium that the championship games take place in. The Spring Kōshien is by invitation, and is usually determined by results of regional fall tournaments. The Summer Kōshien is similar but is not invitational; the right to join is determined by results of the regional summer tournaments.

_Kōshien Rules_:

_*These are nine-inning games that only go into extra innings if the score is tied_

_*Games can be called after seven innings if the weather is bad enough, except for the championship game which must go all the way to nine innings_

_*In regional tournaments (so not championship games), games can be called if a team is leading by at least ten runs after five innings, or seven runs after seven innings_

Loaded bases = There is a runner at every single base, meaning a hit or a walk will allow the opposing team to score a point. Runners cannot steal a base when the bases are loaded though.

**- Note of Interest -**

* Sawamura Eijun is most likely named after Sawamura Eiji, a pro Japanese baseball player in the early 20th century who is regarded as the first great Japanese pitcher. There is even an award named for him called the Sawamura Award that is bestowed upon the top starting pitcher in Japanese professional baseball every year. Famous winners of this award include Yu Darvish (Texas Rangers) and Masahiro Tanaka (New York Yankees). *


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"Ah...I must be dreaming," Eijun smiled bleakly at the bewildered boy in front of him.

There could be no other explanation for what was happening right now.

"What do you mean?" Miyuki asked.

But he'd never dreamt in such clarity before. He could actually make out the scuffs of Miyuki's turned cap, and just the lightest blemishes of past scarring along the side of his face.

"This can't be real," Eijun answered, feeling a bit dazed.

But the Miyuki of this dream misunderstood.

"Oh? So you've heard about how scary coach Kataoka can be about punctuality?" he said in a teasing tone. "Well, welcome to reality – Seidō has over one hundred people on the team. Worst-case scenario, he'll never even know your name – "

"Miyuki!" With a sudden burst of determination, Eijun leaned forward, grabbing the other boy's hand. For a moment, he reveled in its warmth and solidity.

_It feels so real._

But it wasn't real, and before the dream ended, he knew he had to at least tell him – had to say goodbye.

"W-what is it?" Uncharacteristically stumbling over his words, dream-Miyuki looked taken aback. As his eyes flickered wildly back and forth between their enclosed hands and Eijun's serious face, the mocking look on his face faded.

"I want you to know that I'm thankful to you for everything you've done for me," said Eijun, desperation creeping into his voice. He'd never been known for his eloquence, but he needed Miyuki to understand these confused feelings of his – needed him to know how much the ex-catcher still mattered to Eijun and the team, regardless of whether he was physically there with them or not. "Before you go, know that I will definitely lead Seidō to Kōshien. And that every pitch I ever throw for the rest of my life will be to you."

"W – "

"You're _my_ catcher..." He squeezed Miyuki's hand tightly in his own. "No matter what, you'll be the only catcher capable of bringing out my full – _ow_!" Instinctively reacting to the sudden pain, his hands shot up to his sore head. Seizing the opportunity, Miyuki protectively wrenched his freed hand back.

"What the hell are you talking about?" With a frown, Miyuki spun the baseball that he'd used to smack Eijun's head in his hand. "You're creeping me out."

"That hurt!" Eijun growled – and then his eyes widened.

_That hurt...?_

"Who set you up to do this? Was it Kuramochi? Come to think of it, he said one of the new first-years was moving into his dorm room, that bastard..."

"Hit me again," Eijun said, his heart pounding.

"What?"

"Hit me," he insisted.

"You'll regret that," Miyuki promised him darkly.

"Hit m – !" But he was cut off as Miyuki leapt towards him and smothered him with his hand.

"Shh!" the catcher hissed, casting a cautious eye around. "Keep it down, or we'll get caught!"

"Miweslkgmsg?" Eijun garbled through Miyuki's hand, his eyes growing wide. When Miyuki looked quizzically down at him, he impatiently smacked his hand away and repeated his question. "This isn't a dream?"

"Even bouts of insanity won't get you out of this kind of pinch, if that's what you're aiming for." The older boy frowned down at him. "Or have you hit your head on something recently?"

_I feel pain. This isn't a dream. _

Eijun looked down at his hands in wonder.

_This is actually happening._

He looked up and locked gazes with the catcher kneeling before him.

_This is real._

He couldn't believe it. How could this be happening? But there could be no other answer.

Unless some freak cloning experiment had gotten out of hand, somehow – _somehow_, Eijun had gone back to the first day of his first year at Seidō. Back to when he'd been a kid out of his depth who'd somehow lucked into being scouted for one of the best baseball teams in the region. Back to when he'd known nothing.

Back to when they'd been strangers.

_But how? And why?_

"Pull yourself together!" Miyuki snapped his fingers in Eijun's face, making him jump. "If coach finds out we're late, we're so screwed. We've gotta get out of this."

"How...?" Eijun stammered, still reeling from the shock. He shook his head, trying to reorient himself into the present situation. "Can't we just apologize?"

"No, there's no point in apologizing now, because we'll get punished either way. But...what do you think would happen if you snuck into that line without anyone noticing?" Miyuki whispered in a conspiring tone, leaning closer towards him. Suddenly, with a flash, Eijun realized exactly what was going on.

On his first day at Seidō, he'd overslept thanks to Kuramochi. Terrified of coach Kataoka's imposing aura, he'd been cowering behind the shed when he ran into Miyuki. That had been, in a way, the fateful encounter that would shape much of their following interactions.

And it was happening again.

Eijun's mouth fell slightly open as he realized the full implications of what was happening.

_I'm reliving the past._

"So you get it?" Taking Eijun's silence as agreement, Miyuki had continued explaining his plan. "Take a good look at the line...when the guys in front finish their introductions, it goes to the second line. And when the guy at the end starts, everyone's focus is on him right?" Letting just the right amount of excitement seep into his tone, Miyuki pumped his fist. "At that moment...you slip into the line quickly and silently – like a ninja!"

Knowing Miyuki as well as he did now, Eijun could've slapped himself at how gullible and trusting he'd been back then. He'd fallen into the older boy's trap as easily and quickly as one-two-three. But on the other hand, he could see why it had worked so well on him. Back then, he hadn't known how much of a trickster Miyuki was – or how rotten and self-serving his personality could be. He'd been blinded by his respect for the prodigy's prowess, as well as the good looks and smooth lines that accompanied it.

Miyuki was after all, in essentially every aspect, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"So?" The older boy's voice rang out confidently. "You don't want to be screwed because of this for the next three years, do you? All you have to do is trust me."

_Trust me._

"Got it." Eijun returned his self-assured look with a nod and was rewarded with a tiny victorious smirk that danced around Miyuki's lips. He hadn't caught it last time and had paid dearly for it. However...

_I won't let things go the way you want this time around._

"Watch closely. You'll only get one chance," Miyuki instructed him quietly.

"I'm Kanemaru Shinji from Matsukata Senior League!" Eijun chortled at the sight of his fellow classmate bellowing into the air. He'd forgotten how puny they all used to be. "I'd like to be the third baseman!"

"Next." The coach turned his head.

"Go – "

But instead of immediately running, Eijun grabbed the baseball in Miyuki's hand, and before the other boy could react, he'd flung the ball with all of his strength in the direction of the first row of first-years. Then, grabbing Miyuki's unwilling hand, he dragged the other boy out from behind the shed and began to dash toward the lines, pumping his legs faster than ever before...

...and skidded to a stop as he felt coach Kataoka's burning gaze boring into him.

Baffled, his gaze turned to the direction he'd thrown the baseball just in time to see it bump lightly into the metal fence before bouncing pathetically down to the ground.

"...are you an idiot?" Miyuki's voice rang out scathingly behind him.

Eijun began to sweat.

He'd forgotten: the way he was now, he wasn't as nearly as strong as he'd been in his third year. He'd had a slight growth spurt at the end of his second year that added another 3 cm to his height, and put on a bit more muscle mass. He would never be a powerhouse like Masuko or Yūki of course, but his form had significantly filled out compared to his scrawny first year. In his third-year body, that pitch would have cut dangerously past the first-years' faces – grabbing everyone's attention – and then slammed dramatically into the fence, hypothetically keeping everyone's attention to it long enough for him to slip into line.

Unfortunately, his current body possessed none of the muscle needed for that show of power, and the ball had just barely managed to even scrape the fence. All it had done was to make everyone turn their heads in his direction to see who'd thrown it.

As a result, both Eijun and Miyuki were now stranded before the baleful eyes of the coach and the disbelieving looks of the entire Seidō baseball team.

"Kid...you've got some guts being tardy on the first day." Coach Kataoka's gravelly voice sent shivers down his back. "And you've got a twisted mentality for trying to sneak in, to boot."

"A-about that – "

"_**Go run for the rest of morning practice!**_"

Eijun paled. He'd forgotten how particularly scary coach Kataoka could be at the beginning of every year.

"Hyahaha! I can't believe these idiots!" Standing behind the coach were Masuko and Kuramochi, who leered at him. Despite their taunts, Eijun's eyes lit up, welcoming the nostalgic sight of his upperclassmen wearing the Seidō uniform.

"That goes for the two older guys rooming with him," the coach rumbled. Masuko and Kuramochi shrank under his steely gaze. "And the idiot _**trying to sidle into the row behind me**_." Miyuki flinched. "_**You guys run too.**_"

* * *

During his eventful first year on the team, Eijun had come to learn that the coach wasn't as rigid as he looked, and that he could weasel out of most minor blunders with some careful groveling. With that in mind, directly after morning practice – his face ashen from the exercise, as his current body lacked the stamina – he made a beeline for the coach.

"Gener – coach Kataoka!" Eijun barely caught himself in time, knowing that the coach was not likely to appreciate the nickname he had for him. The coach turned around and looked impassively at him. Immediately, Eijun bent over at the waist into a deep bow. "I apologize for being late and disrupting practice! I swear on my honor that it won't happen again!"

After getting past the begrudging phase, Eijun had come to look back rather fondly and even gratefully on the events that had transpired in his solitary first months at Seidō – namely his being excluded from practices as a result of not having apologized to the coach – but in no way did he wish to repeat the experience.

With some apprehension, he waited for a few seconds – and then to his relief, the coach finally grunted.

"It had better not," the man simply stated, and then without another word, he walked away.

Eijun's face split into a wide grin.

_I've missed your guidance, boss._

"On your honor?" At the sound, Eijun turned around to see Miyuki smirking down at him. A lump rose in the back of his throat at the other boy's close proximity. "Is that what you call dragging a helpful bystander into trouble with you? 'Honor'?"

"Haven't you heard? There's no honor among thieves, Miyuki." An arm slung itself heavily around Eijun, and Kuramochi's leering face came into view on his other side. "But you're not as dumb as you look, Sawamura, seeing that you had the tact to apologize to coach. He's really strict about stuff like that. If you hadn't apologized, he'd probably not have let you join practice or something."

"_I wanted to tell you but Kuramochi told me not to,_" Masuko held up a piece of paper.

"Hyaha! You'd have deserved it." As if to make up for it, Kuramochi tightened his grasp around Eijun's neck, making him light-headed.

"_They're lining up outside." _Masuko held up another piece of paper. Kuramochi immediately released Eijun, who let out a small gasp.

"Let's go!" Kuramochi, with Masuko at his heels, dashed away. With his hands in his pockets, Miyuki made to follow them but then glancing back at Eijun, he paused.

"I'd hurry up if I were you," said the catcher with a wave of his hand. "Otherwise, the breakfast line's gonna get too long."

Feeling his chest tightening, Eijun nodded.

"I'm coming!" he said.

* * *

"First-years!" One of the assistant coaches called out to the gathered first-years. "We'll have you group into your preferred positions to see how you fare! Change into your spikes and meet me at Field B."

"Yes sir!"

Haruichi stopped stretching and jumped to his feet, already wearing his spikes.

_Well, here we go. It starts now._

Most people tended to overlook Haruichi because of his height and his frail looks, and he knew he hadn't left much of an impression on any of the coaches or scouts. But he hadn't joined the same school as his older brother to stay nameless for long.

And if there was one thing he had confidence in, it was in his baseball.

"Hey Harucchi!" At the sound of his name – or at least what he thought was his name – he spun around to see the boy who'd been late that morning waving at him. With a grin stretched across his face, the boy approached him. Confused, Haruichi looked around before pointing at himself questioningly.

"Are you talking to me?" he asked. A look of perplexity flashed across the boy's face, which quickly transformed into a more guarded expression.

"Oh – that's right..." The boy cleared his throat. "Sorry. I heard someone saying your name before. You're Kominato Haruichi right?" He held a hand out to Haruichi, who hesitantly shook it.

"You're the guy who got caught this morning, right?"

The boy made a face.

"Yeah, that's me. I'm Sawamura Eijun."

_Well, he seems nice enough._

The two boys began walking together across the field.

For some odd reason, Haruichi found himself feeling at ease with the other boy, which was unusual for him. He'd often been told before that he was too introverted and quiet, but somehow with Sawamura, he found that the usual barriers were gone.

About halfway to their destination, a question rose to mind and without a second thought, he asked it, surprising himself.

"So, what's your position?"

"I'm a pitcher," Sawamura said simply with a small grin.

Haruichi raised an eyebrow; something about the way the other boy had said it struck a chord with him. All of the first-years there had been the best players on their respective teams of course, so there wasn't a single person there who didn't have some skill to backup their claims. But for the most part, everyone was feeling a little nervous and self-conscious being at such a prestigious school – and it didn't help that the upperclassmen already practicing out on the field were showing some serious national-level skill.

But the way Sawamura had said it spoke of an earned, self-assured confidence, and the vibe Haruichi was getting from him was the same kind that he got from his older brother.

The edges of his lips curled upwards into a small smile.

_Either he's really good...or really clueless._

"You there?" Haruichi blinked, as Sawamura waved a hand in front of his face. He flushed lightly.

"Yeah. Uh...I'm a middle infielder. S – "

"Second baseman," Sawamura finished for him. Haruichi blinked again.

"How'd you know?"

There was a pause.

"...would you believe me if I told you I was from the future?" The boy smiled easily at him.

It was clearly meant to be taken as a light joke, but Haruichi found himself thinking it over seriously.

"So you're a time traveler?"

"I guess you could say that," Sawamura's smile widened into a grin. He looked so pleased, that Haruichi decided to keep playing along.

"Why would you go back in time to come here?"

"What else? To play baseball of course."

Haruichi cocked his head thoughtfully.

"Why though?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why here? Why now? Why not the future? Has the world ended in the future? Is there some reason you can't play baseball in the future? Or were you sent here to do something?"

With every question, the footsteps beside him slowed down, eventually drawing to a complete stop. A playful smile on his face, Haruichi turned around – and jerked in surprise at the look on Sawamura's face.

"Sorry – " he stammered. "I like science fiction so I know a lot about stuff like that – and I said some stupid things. Forget about it."

"You do?" Sawamura's eyes refocused, and he grasped Haruichi tightly by the arm. "That's – that's cool, I do too! So – what do you know about time travel?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone tinged with some suspicion.

_Though it doesn't feel like he's trying to make fun of me..._

"Like – like – why do most people get sent back in time? Hypothetically, that is."

"Sent back? Do you mean by...for instance...an external power?" Sawamura nodded frantically, his head bobbing up and down so wildly that Haruichi wouldn't have been surprised if he somehow broke it. "I guess it's usually because there's something they regret having done or not having done in the past, and they're sent back in time to fix it."

"What – what happens after they fix it?"

The sheer desperation in the other boy's voice was so apparent, Haruichi found himself feeling a little shaken.

"Afterwards? I - I'm not sure. They go back to the future, I guess? Are you okay?"

His face as pale as a sheet, Sawamura didn't respond. For a long minute, the other boy's eyes remained fixed on the ground. Haruichi noticed with alarm that his hands had grown white and were shaking, and was beginning to wonder whether he should call for help when suddenly –

"You two!" One of the assistant coaches scowled at them as he walked past. "Quit dawdling and hurry up already!"

"Yes sir!" Haruichi answered, flushing red. He turned to Sawamura, but before he could say anything, the other boy silently began walking again at a brisk pace.

As he hurried forward to match Sawamura's longer strides, Haruichi couldn't decide whether he liked the other boy or not. But one thing was for sure:

_This guy's a freak._

* * *

_Back to the future._

As his feet robotically led him to the field, Eijun felt his heart sinking in his chest. His entire body felt heavy and it was taking his entire will just to keep walking. The surrounding sounds – the clinking of metal meeting baseball, the distant shouting of fielders – had become muted, the colors – the green of the grass, the brown of the earth, the white and blue of the uniforms – faded. He could vaguely tell that Harucchi, who was walking just behind him, thought he was absolutely crazy, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

Because after realizing that this wasn't all some warped dream, Eijun had gotten so caught up in the elation of seeing Miyuki – well – _alive _– that he hadn't stopped to consider whether his venture into the past was permanent or temporary.

But who was to say that this wasn't a one-day deal? Or even worse – a few hours sort of deal?

Eijun reared his head back to look up at the sun, which was now high in the sky. His heart sank even further. How many hours did that leave him?

But no – what was that Harucchi had said to him?

"_...there's something they regret having done or not having done in the past, and they're sent back in time to fix it."_

Eijun immediately latched onto that idea like a drowning man onto a float tube.

That was right. The last thing he could remember doing before waking up in the past, had been when he'd taken a shower after returning from the wake. What had he been thinking then?

_Please, God._

Eijun had never really thought much about god. He'd always just sort of decided that he was, well, _there_ and that had been good enough for him. He couldn't care less whether there was a god – or gods he supposed – out there.

But just assuming that some – what had Harucchi called it? – _external_ force had sent him back in time...had there been a purpose?

What regrets did he have?

Eijun paused.

The better question was, what regrets _didn't_ he have?

In the summer tournament, he had been the impetus that led to Seidō's loss in the finals. Because of him, the third-years had lost their opportunity to play in Kōshien.

Following that, he hadn't realized that Miyuki had been injured in a game. He'd been so wrapped up in his own silly troubles that he hadn't even noticed the signs, which when he looked back later, were so obvious.

He hadn't stopped the coach from resigning, because for some stupid reason, he'd blamed the man for Miyuki's injury. He knew that the coach had blamed himself too, knew that it wasn't really anyone's fault but Miyuki's – but he hadn't been able to admit that.

Despite knowing how much it hurt Miyuki to see them playing baseball, he'd kept making him come down to the field and give him tips on his pitching. Kept telling him to come to their games, kept telling him that he would take Seidō to Kōshien, when he know how much it would hurt the older boy that he would never be able to step foot himself onto the field at Kōshien –

Eijun's eyes widened and he came to a full stop.

"_...something they regret having done or not having done in the past, and they're sent back in time to fix it."_

In a disconnected sort of way, Eijun saw Harucchi give him an odd look and walk past, but he gave it no mind as the words continued to circle around in his mind.

What if that was why he'd been sent back into the past?

_What if I'm here to take Miyuki to Kōshien?_

He began to tremble in excitement.

This was it. Somehow, Eijun knew with absolute certainty – this was the answer.

He'd been sent back in time to take the third-years to Kōshien – to correct the wrong he'd done them in his first-year, back when his pitches had yet to evolve, back when he'd known nothing.

_This is it! I'll become Seidō's ace in my first year, and take Miyuki and the others to victory! This time, we'll beat Inashiro in the finals, and go to Kōshien and –_

But as quickly as it had come, the elation that had been rising in his chest suddenly vanished.

_And then..._

And then with his job done – then what?

"_Afterwards? I - I'm not sure. They go back to the future, I guess?"_

With his job done, what would happen? Would he just continue to stay here, living out the rest of his high school years at Seidō?

Would he return to the future, to find that everything had changed?

...or would he go back to the future – back to his real timeline? His real world?

The real world, in which Eijun had been an inexperienced pitcher his first year and in which Seidō lost in the finals. The real world, in which he hadn't become ace until his second year, when it was too late to form a battery with Miyuki – in which Miyuki had been hurt so that he couldn't ever play baseball again.

The real world in which Miyuki was no longer there.

A fierce pain seized his heart, and he gripped his chest tightly.

_I don't want that._

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you to all who reviewed, I really appreciate the feedback.

This chapter sort of addresses the complete time-travel issue and I hope it's not too far-fetched (not the idea, but Eijun's reaction/reasoning to it).

There'll be a lot more baseball next chapter so please look forward to that.

* * *

**- Glossary -**

Infielder = The defense positions that cover the part of the baseball field closer to the batter, namely first base (1B), second base (2B), third base (3B) and shortstop (SS).

Middle infielder = Referring to both the second base and the shortstop, who are responsible for the 'middle' of the infield defense.

Second baseman = The player guarding second base. In the numbering system used to record defensive plays (and thus, in Japanese high school baseball teams), the second baseman receives the number 4.

Shortstop = The fielding position between second and third base. Regarded as the most dynamic defensive position in baseball because most batters are right-handed and slightly pull the ball, causing more balls to go to the shortstop than any other position. In the numbering system used to record defensive plays (and thus, in Japanese high school baseball teams), the shortstop receives the number 6.

**- Note of Interest -**

* Both Haruichi and his brother Ryōsuke (#4) are second baseman. Good second basemen typically need to be fast and agile, with very good range.

Kuramochi (#6) is a shortstop. Good shortstops are typically extremely agile and possess a very strong throwing arm.

Ryōsuke and Kuramochi together with their perfect middle infield connection play, are considered one of the best middle infielders in the Kantō region (which includes west Tokyo, their Kōshien division).

In real MLB, some famous middle infielders include Derek Jeter (shortstop, New York Yankees) and Dustin Pedroia (second baseman, Boston Red Sox). *


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

* * *

As she watched the first-year boys pitching to the pitchback nets, Rei didn't know what to think.

That day at the baseball field, she'd seen a sight on the mound she'd never expected to find way out in the middle of nowhere – that was, the indomitable spirit of a true ace pitcher.

Captain and pitcher for an unknown, ragtag team, most of the boy's pitches throughout the game had been lackluster. But that final pitch, when he'd been driven into a corner with bases loaded and a full count – his true skill had been unleashed. She'd seen it then – seen the monster he could become. None of his teammates had even a modicum of his talent, and the boy had obviously been having to hold himself back so that they could catch his pitches. Of course, without any real training, he had been equally rough all around the edges, and needed a lot of work before he could even begin to be useful to the team. But more importantly, the necessary talent and spirit had been there.

However...

Adjusting her glasses with a huff of frustration, Rei then crossed her arms across her sizeable chest.

_Where'd it go?_

From the way he was throwing, if she didn't know better she'd have thought Sawamura had been starved the entire past week. His face was withdrawn and pale and his balls were going all over the place. His speed was about the same, but his control was non-existent and his energy completely sapped.

It wasn't totally unusual for a promising player to come to Seidō and then lose all faith in himself after being outshone by the others. But those were usually the kind who were mentally weak and who'd become accustomed to winning their entire lives; after underperforming for a few months, some gave up and left Seidō in the end, but there were others who bounced back and then grew at alarming rates. Rei had thought that even if he hadn't originally had the mental strength to cope with this level of stress, Sawamura would have been the latter sort, but...

_I guess he's more sensitive than I thought?_

Rei adjusted her glasses again and sighed. While Coach Kataoka had been looking over the pitchers during the skill evaluations, he'd barely glanced at Sawamura before moving on. In fact, he'd barely looked over the new pitchers before moving on to the other positions – it seemed that this year, like the year before, none of them had caught his eye. The only pitcher he'd given a second glance was a tall, introverted-looking boy named Furuya.

Rei had seen him pitch before – and it was true that his pitches were incredibly, no, amazingly fast. In fact, the speed of his pitches were probably among the top 5 among high schoolers in all of Japan.

Giving one last look at the practicing first-years, Rei turned and began walking back to her office.

_What are you doing Sawamura? Seidō isn't going to wait for you!_

* * *

It was pitch dark outside before Yōichi finally returned to the dorm room he now shared with two others.

_No time for games tonight, but I can probably squeeze in an episode of Black Lagoon..._

Glancing at the tinted windows, he saw that it was dark, so he pulled out his key from his bag. Whistling aimlessly, he inserted it in the doorknob and turned – and stopped, as the usual _click_ of the door unlocking didn't sound. He turned the knob – and it opened.

Immediately, a muscle twitched on Yōichi's forehead.

_Who the hell forgot to lock the door? _

Kicking the door open, he stormed inside. Flicking on the lights, he tossed his backpack on his bunk and then threw himself down onto the floor. Looking around for the remote control, he spotted it near Sawamura, and with a foot, he lazily reached for –

"_**What the hell!**_" Yōichi yelped, his heart pounding in his ears as he scrambled backwards. Sitting mutely against the wall, Sawamura turned to him with a dead look on his face but didn't respond. "_**Turn on the lights if you're here, dammit!**_"

Sawamura gave a pathetic little sigh, and lowered his head. Yōichi stared, and then sighing, dropped to the floor again.

"What the hell's wrong with you? You depressed cos you messed up at today's skill evaluation or something?"

"That's not it," the first-year grumbled. "Just leave me alone."

Immediately, Yōichi pounced forward and wrapped his legs around Sawamura's neck. Tumbling downwards, he pulled the younger boy down with his momentum, ending with a tight armbar.

"Is that how you talk to your superiors?!"

"Agh – not this again!" Sawamura yelped from between his legs, slapping at the ground.

_Again? Have I done this to him before?_

But some energy seemed to have returned to the boy, and after a few seconds, Yōichi released him.

"Y'know..." Yōichi sighed. It looked like he was about to have to give _that talk_. "It's not that I don't get why you're depressed. Loads of people get bummed out after their skill evaluations every year. But it's not like you won't have any more chances. You've still got what, three – no, two years left. Lately, Masuko's been coming home late, yeah? That's cos he's a third-year now. After this...there's nothing left for him. So right now, he's probably swinging a bat out somewhere, trying to get as much practice in as possible."

Sawamura didn't respond, but something seemed to flicker in his eyes.

"There's a lot of competition for third batter, and yesterday, he made just _one_ error. But because of that he was removed from the regular lineup. Everyone comes here thinking they wanna be the ace...or that they wanna bat cleanup...or just that they wanna be a regular and play in the game. But the truth is, there are only nine spots and we have close to a hundred players, so we have to work for them. The fittest make it and everyone else can only wait for their next chance.

So you're not the only one who feels the pressure. If you falter now, you'll only get left behind_**.**_"

"I get that!" Sawamura suddenly jumped to his feet, startling Yōichi. He had a wild, distressed look on his face. "I don't...I don't want to be left behind either. But what if I have no control over it? What if – if I get on the team, I don't know what will happen in the future?"

"Haah?" Yōichi let out a sound of disbelief. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know why I'm here," the younger boy said helplessly, wringing his hands.

"You don't know why you're here?" Yōichi repeated incredulously. His eyes narrowed. "Then why the hell did you come here? We're all here to go to Kōshien. What about you?"

Falling silent, Sawamura didn't move, looking straight down at the ground. Then without another word, he opened the door and stalked outside, slamming it closed behind him.

Yōichi scowled.

_What a brat._

Reaching for the remote, he finally turned on the TV only to see the ending credits of the show he'd wanted to watch start streaming up the screen.

_Dammit!_

* * *

"Just like always...the crowds are pretty amazing on Sundays." Kanemaru uneasily looked out at the crowd filing into the watching area outside the fence posts. "A lot of different people are here to watch the practice...alumni and reporters too."

"Man, I'm getting so nervous. I couldn't sleep at all last night!"

"I can't believe we're going to be playing against the upperclassman...it hasn't even been a month since we joined the team," Kanemaru moaned.

"You guys all set?" As Coach Kataoka came stalking over, all the first-years jumped to their feet.

"Yes sir!"

"I'm going to give every single one of you first-years a chance to play...so I want all of you to be ready to go out at any moment."

"_**Yes sir!**_"

As the coach walked away to talk to the upperclassmen in their dugout, the first-years broke into excited conversation.

Meanwhile, sitting alone on the bench, Eijun glumly lowered his head.

_What should I do?_

Eijun knew he was being stupid, acting like a lost puppy for the better part of the past month. His morose attitude certainly hadn't endeared him to his teammates or his dormmates.

But for some reason, Eijun couldn't help the intense fear that had managed to worm itself inside his heart – the fear that this dream-like reality would suddenly end, and that he would return to his future. He wasn't sure why, but while he didn't know what exactly had propelled him into the past, he had a strange feeling of certainty that it wouldn't be permanent. And even putting that aside, he just couldn't bring himself to think that if he simply played along, everything would turn out fine. No, he didn't dare think that, for how could he when they'd already taken Miyuki away from him once?

As a result, he was on alert at all times, prepared for any sudden event; he could never get a full night's sleep, waking up at hourly intervals. So with sleep deprivation added to his list of mental struggles, Eijun knew his pitching had been less than lackluster.

However, much of it had been on purpose. Fearing that if he drew attention to himself as a pitcher, Eijun had been purposefully throwing wild pitches. It hurt his pride as Seidō's ace to demean himself like that, but if he stood out and was promoted to the first string, he knew that there would be no turning back. He would have to really start aiming for Kōshien – and if Seidō defeated Inashiro in the finals this time around, who knew what could happen?

Eijun blamed all of the terrifying articles on time travel that he'd read on the school computers following his talk with Harucchi. They had all warned about things like _time paradoxes _and _world lines _and _causalities _and a bunch of other things he didn't understand. He wasn't sure about the specifics but he'd gotten the gist that things could go horribly wrong if he messed up.

He liked to think that he'd grown up a bit since his first-year at Seidō, and it might have been this younger body's underdeveloped brain and raging hormones or whatnot, but just thinking about it all hurt his head.

With a frustrated growl, Eijun pulled at his hair. The bottom line was, to put it simply –

_I'm not cut out for this sci-fi crap._ _I just wanted Miyuki alive. So why did I get sent into the past?_

"What's got you looking so down?" A voice rang out from behind him. "Though if what I'm hearing about you is true, that's just your default mood." Eijun turned around and jumped to see the object of his thoughts grinning down at him. Wearing his baseball cap turned characteristically to the side, Miyuki was in uniform with his equipment casually slung across his back.

"Why're you here?" Eijun spluttered. "Shouldn't you be with the first string?"

Though today was the game between the first-years and the upperclassmen, they were only going up against the second string.

"Haha! The main force's got today off. Plus if we win the upcoming game, the Kantō tournament will be next. "

"Oh..." Eijun squeezed his hands.

_I want to pitch._

But could he?

"So when are you pitching?" Miyuki asked.

"Dunno...when I'm up, I guess," he said halfheartedly.

"What's up with you? Could you sound any less excited?" Miyuki shook his head. "You better get your act together if you ever want to be used in a game."

Eijun scowled.

_I don't want to be lectured by you when I'm doing this for you!_

But of course he couldn't say that. With a grumbled farewell, he dragged his feet to join the other first-years.

And so, the showcase game began.

The first-years began on offence, and as expected, Tanba struck out the first three batters in almost no time. At the third strikeout, the normally quiet pitcher let out a roar.

"_**Yeah!**_"

The nearby first-years flinched, and as the two teams switched positions, they gathered in the center of the baseball diamond.

Eijun was still benched for now, so he couldn't hear them, but judging from the way they kept sneaking uneasy glances at the upperclassmen's dugout, he could generally understand what they were talking about.

He remembered that he'd been stunned by it too, his first year. He hadn't quite understood then the acute pressure felt by the upperclassmen – the pressure to stand out to the coach and make the first string so that they could play in games. The pressure only increased with every year, and if it took scaring a bunch of first-years to showcase their talent – well, so be it.

"What's with you guys..."

Eijun looked up to see Kanemaru and a few other first-years scowling down at him.

"What?" he asked. He hadn't gone out of his way to make friends with them, but unlike his original first year, he didn't think he'd done anything to embarrass them.

"Shouldn't you be out at the bullpen warming up or something? But you're just moping around here, and that other guy's even sleeping."

Eijun looked beside him to see Furuya snoring away on the bench.

"There's no point..." The first-year standing beside Kanemaru looked shaken. "Tojo's out there on the mound right now, but just look at him. His team made it to best 4 at nationals, but he's getting hit by every batter...he's falling apart. These two won't stand a chance."

"Yeah...we don't stand a chance...we've only been here a month..."

"This inning's never gonna end..."

But finally, after getting scored on 12 times in the first inning, the first-years' pitcher managed to strike out the third batter. Shaken, the first-years on defense practically fled back to the dugout to switch gear.

Unfortunately, their relief was short-lived as Tanba managed to strike out three in a row again.

"Strike, batter out! Three outs, change sides!"

"This is crazy," a first-year moaned.

"So this is high school baseball..."

However, Coach Kataoka seemed to have sensed the rapidly dropping morale.

"We're going to shift the pitcher and the entire outfield!"

Looking absolutely crushed, with sweat glistening at his temple, Tojo returned to the dugout. Without even the energy to wish them good luck, he collapsed on the bench. The new pitcher and outfielders walked to their positions, practically shaking in their cleats.

And they too promptly fell apart and were destroyed.

Eijun winced as the upperclassmen scored their twenty-first run.

_I get why coach does this, but this is downright bullying..._

"_**Pitcher change! Furuya Satoru, get on the mound!**_"

Immediately at the sound of his name, like a vampire popping out of its coffin, Furuya rose up. With his mitt in hand, he serenely walked to the mound.

Despite himself, Eijun felt his mouth tug up into a smile. From what he remembered, the Furuya of their first-year had absolutely terrible control and practically zero mental strength – but his speed had always been the real thing. Eijun had gotten the ace position in their third year, but he'd had to fight hard for it.

_The Furuya of now is nothing compared to what he'll eventually turn into...but he should still give these guys a scare._

Stomping on the mound, Furuya sent the ball blazing down to the batter, who could only watch in horror as it bulleted past him.

With a terrible crushing sound, it careened directly against the side of the catcher's mitt before suddenly lifting sharply and hitting the boy on the bottom half of his face mask. The first-year let out a shocked sound and fell backwards.

Looking stunned, everyone watched, frozen, until suddenly –

"How is your hand?" The coach knelt and motioned for the first-year catcher to hold out his arm.

"I – I think it's – _ow!_" The boy let out a hiss of pain as the coach grasped his wrist.

"It may be sprained," said the coach, eyeing it with a practiced eye. "Get it iced and go to the infirmary immediately afterwards."

"Y-yes sir." The boy shakily got to his feet.

"You!" The coach pointed at Kanemaru who flinched. "Help him with that."

"Yes sir!"

Then the coach looked at Furuya, who looked rather lost.

"You passed, Furuya," he said. "Be at the first string's team practice starting tomorrow."

Eijun closed his eyes. He remembered this moment happening before too, though it had happened a little differently from before. The coach had been hit in the face then, but he supposed the timing of the wind must have been off this time around.

"I wanted to pitch some more...but whatever." He heard Furuya say. "This way I'll get to team up with Miyuki-senpai."

Eijun's eyes flew open.

"Please wait a moment, sir – !" Suddenly realizing what that meant, the third-years began to protest. "He's only thrown one pitch! If it was at least three...or even two, we could get a real look at his style!"

"I want to let him continue..." The coach adjusted his cap. "But none of the first-year catchers I've seen today will be able to handle his pitches."

A deathly silence swept through the first-years' dugout.

"_**Pitcher and catcher change!**_"

As the next pitcher and catcher hurried to their positions on the field, Eijun looked down at his hands. They were white and tightly clenched against each other; suddenly, he realized that they were shaking.

"_This way I'll get to team up with Miyuki-senpai."_

* * *

Though Furuya had thrown only one pitch, his ball had done its job of disrupting the third-years' flow. In the following third and fourth innings, the number of points they scored dramatically dropped.

_They've lost their momentum_.

Kazuya smiled, remembering what the first-year had said to him the day before.

"_I'm not going to let anybody in here get a hit...so then will you be my catcher?"_

"Haha," he laughed to himself. "And that's exactly what happened."

As the offence and defense switched positions again, Kazuya noted that the coach had already stopped paying much attention to the showcase game.

_Haha! If he's lost interest in the game, I bet he's thinking he's got a pretty good harvest today. _

With the way Tanba was pitching today, and with Furuya joining the first string, Kazuya could tell that the coach had decided on who to use for the following Kantō tournament. That meant that he was probably going to stop the game soon, especially since the first-years had practically no chance of earning even a single point.

_And the coach must know that they're all at their breaking point by now...any further, and they'll be irreversibly crushed._

Looking like the frontline of a war zone, the first-years looked positively haggard.

Suddenly, there was a buzz as Furuya rose to his feet and left the dugout. It seemed that he was giving up on the game and leaving early.

"Is that okay, Mr. Monster?" Kazuya asked teasingly, as Furuya walked past. "Not watching to the end..."

"...It's already over." Furuya shrugged. "Baseball isn't so simple that one person can lead a team to victory..."

"_**Both teams line up**_!"

Kazuya turned to see the coach raise a hand, signaling the end of the game.

"See?" Furuya's lips curled. "The game's over." And he left.

_Well, that was an anticlimactic end..._

Kazuya got to his feet and stretched.

_In the end, I guess the only interesting first-year this year is Furu – _

"General..._**coach**_!" A voice roared out. "_**I haven't pitched yet!**_"

Kazuya blinked in surprise – it was Sawamura. He looked flushed, standing before the older man, who looked coldly down at him.

_Well well...what's this?_

"Who are you?" said the coach.

"My name is Sawamura Eijun!" he shouted, not backing down to Kazuya's surprise. "I'm from Nagano Prefecture and my birthday is May 15th! My blood type is type O! _**And I will be Seidō's ace!**_"

...a_ little too much information, but that's the spirit._

"The game's over, Sawamura..." A first-year grumbled.

"Yeah just let it go..."

"I know I'm not the only player who hasn't even gotten to play yet!" Sawamura whirled around. "Have you forgotten? This is our showcase game! This is _your _chance to show everyone! Don't you want to play with the team? Don't you want to play more baseball? If you haven't even gone out yet, can you honestly hold your head high and say you gave it your all? _**Are you really ready to just give it up here?!**_"

"Shut up..." A first-year scowled. "Aren't you the one who's been trying the least hardest among us?"

"Yeah...unlike you, we're not here just because we feel like it!"

"We don't even have any catchers left!"

Coach Kataoka, who had been listening impassively to the first-years, looked around at this.

"Is that true? Where are the other catchers?"

"They're all already icing on the bench, coach..."

Sawamura's face fell. His mouth opened, as if to say something – and then it closed. All of his energy suddenly seemed to leave him, and looking utterly defeated, he turned around.

_C'mon...if you look like that, I can't exactly stay still, can I?_

"Coach, I'll catch for him," Kazuya called out. "I already have my gear on me anyways."

At the sound of his voice, Sawamura spun around. Meeting Kazuya's gaze, the younger boy's eyes widened.

"This is the _first-years_ against the _reserve_ players Miyuki," said a third-year.

"I won't be batting, just catching," said Kazuya, with an innocent smile. "C'mon, what could a wee catcher like me do against all of you big boys?"

As one, the second and third-years glared murderously at him.

But it seemed that Sawamura's words had struck some sort of chord within the coach.

"What about the rest of you first-years?" He turned his baleful gaze towards the other dugout, whose residents all balked. "Do you want to continue the game?"

They all mutely looked at each other uneasily. And then –

"I'm not ready to just give it up here." One of the first-years, with a head of blonde hair, grounded out. "And I'm not about to lose out to this idiot here!"

"Me too...I don't want this game to end like this!"

"Let us continue, please! Coach!"

"...why didn't you all take the field with that kind of spirit from the beginning?" said the coach, stunning all of the first-years into silence. "After high school baseball, there is nothing else for you!" He turned and glared at Kazuya, who sweated. "Change into your gear. You'll be catching." And then he turned to Sawamura, who visibly gulped. "For this last inning, you'll be the pitcher..._**so hurry up and get on the mound.**_"

* * *

Once Kazuya had changed into his catcher gear, he jogged over to the mound where Sawamura was tossing a rosin bag in his hand.

"So, what pitches can you throw again?" Kazuya asked, covering his mouth with his mitt. He was only asking to be sure, since he remembered that the last time they'd formed a battery, Sawamura had claimed to have only fastballs in his repertoire. However, to his surprise, the boy seemed to actually think it over before responding.

"Four-seam and changeups..." He seemed uneasy, as he didn't meet Kazuya's eyes.

_What happened to all that spirit just now?_

But he supposed the first-year had just been fired up at the moment. Now – with everyone's attention on him and with the pressure of turning the momentum around, what kind of pitches would he throw?

"That's good. Have you learned any breaking balls yet?" he asked.

"...cutters."

"You paused. No confidence in it?"

"That's not it," said Sawamura, looking as if he were struggling with something.

Kazuya raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll see." The southpaw pursed his lips, clearly done with the explanation. Kazuya shrugged and returned to the catcher's box. Lowering his mask, he knelt down. Glancing up at the batter, he recognized him as a right-handed second-year who tended to play aggressively.

Kazuya moved his mitt to the outside corner of the plate.

_Well, let's see what he's got._

As Sawamura began to wind-up, Kazuya noted with some interest that he had refined his messy form since the last time he'd seen him pitch.

_However..._

His mitt snatched up to catch the ball, which flew high and far from the plate.

"BALL!"

Kazuya threw the ball back to Sawamura, who caught it with a blank look on his face.

_Well, that's no good._

No matter how aggressive the batter, that pitch had been way too obvious. Nobody would swing at a course like that. Sawamura still needed to work on his control.

"BALL!"

Kazuya suppressed a sigh. This wouldn't do at all; Sawamura was throwing too high. His posture right now was too stiff. Maybe the pressure of playing in an actual match was affecting him more than he'd expected it to?

He glanced up at the batter, who was beginning to relax now. The batter's lips had curled up into a smirk, and with the count at 2-0 in his favor, it was clear that he wasn't going to be swinging until he got a strike.

Rising to his feet, Kazuya called for a timeout before jogging over to the mound.

"Okay...relax!" he said, thumping the boy's chest with his mitt. "You're way too tense, and it's throwing off your aim. Don't think about it and just throw to my glove. Remember, we're partners right now."

"Partners..." Sawamura repeated.

"Yeah, that's right."

Something flickered in the pitcher's eyes briefly – but then it dulled. His shoulders sagged.

"I can't."

Kazuya's eyes narrowed.

"What's the big deal? What do you mean you can't?"

"You don't understand."

Kazuya could've shaken the younger boy's shoulders in frustration. He realized that something must have happened to affect him like this, but the fact of the matter was that for the entire last month, the boy had been sulking around listlessly.

_We don't need someone who doesn't want to be here._

"No, I don't," Kazuya snapped. "But who was the brat going on about becoming ace? Wasn't that you? Why else did you come here?" Sawamura froze, and Kazuya knew he'd struck a chord. "You're thinking too much about this, Sawamura. Stop trying to use your head and just look at my mitt."

For a second, the boy didn't react, and he was about to just give up and go back when Sawamura suddenly nodded his head. Kazuya scratched the back of his neck and then shrugged.

_Well, that's about all I can do for him I guess._

He returned to the catcher's box once more, and knelt down.

Kazuya trusted in the assistant coach Rei's judgment. Her recruits, while seemingly rough around the edges, were almost always on the money – one good example being his teammate Kuramochi, who was now Seidō's best base runner. He didn't doubt what she saw in Sawamura, and had in fact, seen for himself some of the boy's latent potential that day with Azuma.

However, no matter how great their talent or potential, everyone's greatest barrier was in the end, themselves. If Sawamura couldn't get past this, despite his loud proclamations of becoming the team's ace, he would never even make the second string bench, let alone the coveted number 1 team number.

Kazuya sighed. Lowering his mask, he glanced back up at the batter to see how he was doing – and blinked. The batter had suddenly grown tense, gripping his bat tightly in his hands. A bead of sweat slid down his arm.

_What's up with him...?_

Automatically, Kazuya's gaze flickered back to the mound – and immediately found his answer. His eyes widening against his will, he stared.

The pitcher standing there on the mound – who was that? It wasn't Sawamura...was it?

But it was.

...right?

If he didn't know better, he'd have thought the pitcher standing there was a completely different person from two minutes ago. But no – it was still Sawamura, in all of his average height and looks glory.

However...his eyes were completely different from before. On this new figure's face was a lion's gaze, completely focused and ruthless as it bore down on its unknowing prey.

Kazuya had never experienced this kind of intensity coming from the pitcher's mound before. The closest he could think of was the sheer force Tetsu gave off right before he hit a walk-off home run. It was an indicator of the most terrifying players. It was the intensity of a pitcher with the utmost confidence in his ability to strike out the batter – and the experience to prove it. It was unfortunate, but even their current ace Tanba had never shown such intensity on the mound, let alone Kawakami.

But that was impossible. There was no way a first-year pitcher could possess this kind of aura, especially not a greenhorn like Sawamura who'd just come from the boonies to play for the big leagues for the first time in his life.

As if in slow-motion, Sawamura began to wind-up. His arm pulled backwards. Miyuki narrowed his eyes; this form was a little different from what he'd seen so far. He concentrated on determining what kind of pitch was coming – but even as the ball came flying forward, Sawamura's arm never fully came into view, moving instead like a whip through the air.

But before he could even make sense of what that meant, the ball had slammed into his mitt with a gunshot-like crack that resounded across the field. He could practically see smoke rising out of his mitt from the sheer force behind it.

"..._**Strike!**_"

For a moment, there was stunned silence from the viewers. And then like a breaking dam, whispers began to pour out.

"What was that?"

"That was pretty fast, wasn't it?"

"Not as fast as that first guy, though..."

"What's his name again?"

_Hey, hey...what was that? That was at least 140 km/hr..._

He threw the ball back to Sawamura, who caught it and calmly turned around to adjust his cap.

So on top of that irregular pitching form, he had speed and power. What about control and variety?

Kazuya moved his mitt to the inner corner of the plate, and when Sawamura's face tightened in understanding, he knew that the younger boy somehow knew what he was asking for. He nodded, and with the same burning intensity, before he knew it, a cutter broke across the plate and slammed into his mitt. The batter remained standing frozen in the batter's box, anxiety dripping off of him like wax from a candle.

"_**Strike!**_"

Kazuya threw the ball back to Sawamura, who caught it and adjusted his cap once more. Feeling a smile inadvertently shape his lips, he moved his mitt directly to the middle of the plate. This third pitch would seal the deal. If he could do it again...

A foot slammed down on the mound, and before Sawamura's arm even came into full view, another ball was firing out towards the batter. Desperate, the batter began to swing – but before he could complete the swing, the ball was already smoking hotly in Kazuya's mitt.

"_**Strike three! Batter out!**_"

"Nice pitch," he called out to Sawamura, who stared back at him with a blank look on his face – and then suddenly, a single tear rolled down the younger boy's face, startling him. But before he could react, Sawamura raised his arm and furiously rubbed at his face with his shirt's sleeve.

Then he lowered his arm and for what felt like the first time in ages, Sawamura's face split into a wide grin.

Kazuya shook his head; he must have mistaken a bead of sweat for tears. How unlike him.

_But that's more like it._

After seeing Sawamura pitch against Azuma several months ago, he'd thought he could predict the boy's growth. Sawamura would come to Seidō, fail miserably and realize his limitations, and then work hard to surpass them. With the proper amount of careful coaching and shaping, and assuming that his talent was the real deal, he would achieve ace level by his third, or even second year. A true diamond in the rough – but not one that would be ready to form a proper battery with Kazuya in time.

Or at least, that had been what he'd thought would happen. But after that performance just now...well. This changed everything.

Kazuya felt his lips perk upwards to form his signature smile.

_We just might have a real monster in our hands._

* * *

**A/N: **Don't worry though. Eijun will be awesome, but he won't be roflcurbstomping everyone in his way (that'd make for very boring games). Even Narumiya had trouble with Seidō after all. And I completely concentrated on the pitching, but future games will show more of the other stuff as well of course (once Eijun gets on the first string, with characters who have actual names).

* * *

**- Glossary -**

Rosin bag = A cotton bag filled with rosin power that pitchers typically use to take sweat off their hand, so they have better ball control.

Pitches:

-_ Four-seam: _A fastball designed for velocity (usually) with little break, meaning it doesn't fool hitters but rather challenges their reaction time. If hitters can predict it, they can easily hit it. However, Eijun's four-seam moves like a breaking ball because of his unusual pitching form.

_- Changeup: _An off-speed fastball. It is thrown the same way as a normal fastball but arrives much slower at the plate. Commonly used by pitchers to trick and mess-up a batter's timing.

_- Cutter: _A fastball that breaks toward the pitcher's glove side as it reaches the plate; batters have a hard time hitting it with the bat's sweet spot, and it usually results in soft contact and an easy out.

**- (canon) Sawamura Eijun Pitcher Data -**

Speed (2/5)

Control (3/5)

Stamina (4/5)

Cutter: Lv4

Changeup: Lv3

**- (TTOL) Sawamura Eijun Pitcher Data -**

Speed (5/5)

Control (5/5)

Stamina (4/5)

Cutter: Lv5

Changeup: Lv4

Four-seamer: Lv5

**- Note of Interest -**

* 140 km/hr is around 87 mph, which is already exceptional for high schoolers. Furuya can pitch at around 150 km/hr (~93 mph) which is amazing (and is why everyone is always in awe in canon). It's especially amazing because they're only first-years who still haven't reached their full potential. A high schooler who could throw in the 120 km/hr (~75 mph) range would be considered average. I believe that in canon, Sawamura pitches at around that speed.

In MLB, the fastest pitch ever recorded was 169.1 km/h (105.1 mph), thrown by Aroldis Chapman (Cincinnati Reds).*


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

* * *

_Chris-senpai didn't want anything and Kanemaru wanted a calpico...right?_

With a shrug, Haruichi pressed the button for the soft drink, and it tumbled down with a clatter. Just as he bent over to pick it up, he heard light footsteps behind him.

"Haha...being a fetching boy for your seniors?"

Haruichi straightened up and turned around to see his older brother leaning against the wall. With his usual unreadable smile on his face, he was sucking from a straw in a juice box.

"The spotlight today was on those two pitchers...but you hit and ran well. And you were the one who scored in the end."

After Sawamura had started pitching, the first-years had managed to score two runs against the upperclassmen. Haruichi had stole two bases after a long hit to the outfield and ultimately managed to score one of the runs.

"Ah..." Haruichi said, flushing with pleasure at the compliment. "I just got lucky."

"I didn't expect you to enter the same high school as me," said Ryōsuke, stepping closer. "You always followed me in everything in the past, though. But if you always try to become my copy, you'll never surpass me." Still smiling, he passed by Haruichi. "Don't underestimate this place...it isn't as easy as you think." He tossed his empty juice box into a nearby bin and left without looking back.

Haruichi stood still, staring at his brother's retreating back.

_Brother..._

* * *

It was pitch dark outside the windows, but the indoor practice grounds were still illuminated in light. However, it was empty – or should have been, if it weren't for the tall first-year looking expectantly at him.

"Sheesh...telling me to catch your balls right now," Kazuya sighed, thumping his fist inside the mitt. "You're already part of the first string, aren't you? We'll get to practice together a lot." He paused, and then smirked. "You feeling nervous because of Sawamura?"

Furuya, looking as taciturn as ever, didn't respond. However, to his glee, Kazuya saw that the first-year's hand had tightened over the baseball. Unable to help himself, he prodded him once more.

"You regret not staying until the end now, don't you?"

"Not really," Furuya finally said. "I don't care about watching games I'm not pitching in."

_So he says – but I can tell it's bugging him._

Just as Furuya began his pitch, he paused.

"I chose to come here to find my own place...so please don't disappoint me, Miyuki-senpai."

Kazuya blinked, momentarily taken aback.

_Disappoint him...?_

"Haha!" He let out a laugh, raising his mitt in preparation. If anything, that had been the last reaction he'd expected of the younger boy. "You're an interesting one, that's for sure. I like you!"

_He's got the right spirit for a pitcher._

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Ōta said dubiously, taking out the storage keys from his back pocket. "The lights are off and the door's locked."

"Coach Kataoka has a habit of thinking over team-related matters in there," Rei explained, crossing her arms across her chest.

"If you say so..." Fumbling with the lock in the darkness for a few seconds, there was finally an audible click as the key turned. "There we go."

The door swung open, and they stepped in – where, sure enough, Kataoka sat smoking a cigarette in the middle of the room.

"Coach Kataoka, so you were here!" Ōta exclaimed. Wordlessly, Rei flicked the light switch, and harsh fluorescent light illuminated the small shed room.

"What did you two think of today's game?" the coach asked, without preamble.

Rei had to hold back a smile.

_As always, he gets to the point._

"Well, even though the scores showed an overwhelming loss...there were some outstanding players at the end, weren't there?" Ōta answered with a thoughtful look on his face. "There was the small one on second...he's third-year Kominato's younger brother, isn't he? He showed some good batting sense. Furuya Satoru, who silenced the crowd with only one pitch...and lastly, Sawamura Eijun. None of the batters could even swing at his pitches, with that presence he has on the mound. The fact that he's a southpaw was just the cherry on top."

"You were the one who scouted Sawamura, weren't you, Takashima?" Kataoka's steely gaze turned to Rei, who nodded.

"You have a great eye for talent, as always," Ōta praised her. "I didn't notice him at all until today's match, but he completely blew me away."

_You and me both, Ōta._

Although in fact, Rei had probably been the most shocked of them all upon witnessing the boy's pitches. Whatever she'd been expecting from Sawamura – or even hoping for – it certainly hadn't been _that._

"I plan to let Sawamura debut in the Kantō tournament," Kataoka announced.

"What?" Ōta looked surprised. "I understand your desire to use him but shouldn't we confirm that today wasn't just a fluke?"

"You just said he blew you away today," Rei pointed out.

"Yes, but he could be the type whose performance is sketchy at best." Ōta looked worried. "I mean, he certainly wasn't pitching like that before, now was he?"

There was a pause, as Rei had to admit he had a point. However –

"It wasn't a fluke," Kataoka said. "I could tell by his third pitch. With his deceptive form...he uses his right hand to form a wall and concentrates the strength of his body while releasing his left wrist at the very last moment. And with those naturally moving pitches, if he were to be paired with the right catcher, he could be unstoppable."

Rei's eyes widened; the coach wasn't the type to exaggerate or say things he didn't completely believe.

"The question is, why hasn't he been pitching like that until now?" Kataoka looked at Rei, who uneasily adjusted her glasses. "Was he like this when you scouted him?"

"No, coach," Rei admitted. "I saw that he had talent and recognized his presence when I saw him playing at his old school, but his skill level was nowhere near what we saw today. If I didn't know better, I'd say that the Sawamura we saw today was someone completely different from before." She paused thoughtfully. "Or rather...today, he pitched like a much more improved version of himself."

With a frown, Kataoka stubbed his cigarette out on an ashtray.

"Regardless, I plan on using both Sawamura and Tanba as the starting pitchers for the team in the matches before summer. And as for Furuya..." Rei and Ōta blinked in surprise. "I'm planning on letting him debut in the Kantō tournament as well. He should make for an interesting closer."

Unable to completely reign in her heightened excitement, Rei's hands tightened around herself. Seidō High's baseball team of recent years had become well-known for their iron-wall defense and strong batting lineup, but without a reliable ace pitcher to shut down their opponents' offence, they had failed to advance to their goal of Kōshien.

But now, if Sawamura and Furuya could just live up to their expectations on the pitching lineup alongside Tanba...

* * *

It was late by the time Kazuya finally managed to peel himself away from the clingy first-year.

After the catcher easily caught his blazing fastball, Furuya's bullishness had completely crumbled as he began to cling on to Kazuya and beg him to catch for him. However, the younger boy had had to be satisfied with just ten more pitches, before they turned in for the night.

With a sigh of relief, Kazuya trudged up the stairway to the second floor of the dormitory building, looking forward to some long-earned privacy. He'd shared the room with Azuma in his first year at Seidō, but now that the hulking batter was gone, he had it all to himself.

Fishing his key out from his pocket, he began to aimlessly think about how to spend the rest of his evening.

_Maybe I'll go pick up some pocari sweat at the vending machine...and a magazine from Kuramochi –_

Suddenly, Kazuya stopped in his tracks, spotting a hunched over figure just by his doorway. The person had his Seidō baseball cap on, and was seated with his head bowed over so that he couldn't see his face. Judging from his stillness, he had fallen asleep.

Mulling over what to do, Kazuya scratched his neck.

And then making up his mind, he gave the seated figure a sharp jab with his foot. Immediately, the boy yelped in pain and his head jerked up as he automatically leapt to his feet.

"Sawamura? What're you doing here?"

For a second, the first-year looked lost, looking up at Kazuya with an oddly confused expression on his face. And then his face brightened.

"Miyuki!"

"That's Miyuki-_senpai_ to you," said the catcher with a smirk. "What're you doing outside my room?"

"Well...I felt like seeing you," said Sawamura casually. Kazuya blinked.

_...I'm really popular with this year's pitchers, aren't I?_

Noticing then that the first-year – dressed lightly in shorts and a t-shirt – was beginning to shiver from the night chill, he shrugged.

"Come on inside then," he said, holding up his key. Sawamura's face split into a grin. "That is...if you bring me a drink from the vending machine."

To his surprise, the younger boy immediately agreed and without any further prompting, he dashed down the stairway.

Kazuya folded his arms across his chest, bemused.

_He's more obedient than I thought._

By the time Sawamura returned to his room, Kazuya had already changed into more comfortable clothes and switched from his sports glasses to his everyday ones. He was idly flipping through an old issue of his favorite sports magazine when the first-year burst into the room with drinks and snacks clutched in his arms.

"What took you so long?" Kazuya said, reaching for a can. To his surprise, he saw that Sawamura had brought his favorite drink.

"I got caught by Kuramochi-senpai," Sawamura grouched, tossing the rest of the items on the spare bed. "He gave me a real thrashing."

"Let me guess – for daring to strike out three upperclassmen in a row without any warning?" Popping open the can, Kazuya began gulping down the sweet drink.

"Nah...he found my cellphone and now he thinks I have a girlfriend back home or something..."

Startled, Kazuya choked on the liquid and for several seconds, preoccupied himself with his coughing.

"You okay?" Sawamura sounded concerned. Embarrassed, he wiped his mouth.

"Haha...you didn't hear it from me, but Kuramochi's actually pretty shy around girls our age," he said, clearing his throat. "He can't even talk to the manager girls."

A look of incredulous glee spread across Sawamura's face.

"So that's why he's always on me about Wakana!"

_Is that the girlfriend?_

"Anyways..." Kazuya put the empty can down on the floor. "So what happened today?"

"What do you mean?" Though as Sawamura was currently preoccupied with trying to open a bag of chips with his mouth, it came out sounding more like "_Wheogmsgsn_?"

"You were a completely different person today on the mound." Kazuya teasingly pointed at himself with a gleeful smile. "Did my words power you up or something?"

"Oh...yeah, they did." Sawamura popped a chip in his mouth and began chewing loudly.

Kazuya blinked again.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"I guess...I just realized that I was thinking _way_ too much about the whole thing. There's no need to think about anything else, I'm no good at that anyways. The best I can do, the best anyone could expect of me, is to just pitch as well as I can, and get to Kōshien with the rest of the team...is what I figured, anyways. And whatever happens next...happens." With a thoughtful look and then a nod, Sawamura tossed another chip in his mouth.

"Oh?" asked Kazuya half-jokingly, reaching for a chip. "So you think you can lead us to Kōshien?"

"I will," said Sawamura simply, holding the bag out to him.

The second-year paused and looked at the other boy appraisingly. Though the chip crumbs scattered around the edges of his mouth took away from some of the effect, something about the look on Sawamura's face told him that he had absolute faith in what he'd just said.

_...I'd say he was being all bark and no bite, but seeing the way he pitched today, he might actually follow up on that claim._

Suddenly, there was a loud banging noise on the door, grabbing their attention.

"_**Sawamura! I know you're in there!**_" Kuramochi's unmistakable voice sounded from outside. "_**Lights out in ten! And if you try turning on the lights when you come in, I'll slam you!**_"

"I'm coming!" Sawamura jumped to his feet, and the bag of chips he'd been eating dropped to the ground, spilling crumbs everywhere on the floor. "Ah...crap..."

"_**That's ten SECONDS! Hyahaha!**_"

"Sawamura..."

"My bad Miyuki-senpai!" The first-year put his hands together in an apologetic pose as he raced to the door. "You can have the leftovers! It's your favorite, right?"

The door slammed shut.

Speechless, Kazuya stared at the closed door – and then he shook his head. He turned to the leftover boxes on the bed.

_As if he'd know my –_

He stopped and stared at the unmistakably white and brown box resting near the pillow. A picture of a burger-shaped chocolate biscuit was emblazoned across the top.

* * *

The next morning, as the first-years ran around the baseball field, everyone couldn't help but notice the radically different temperament of the boy who was now running at the head of the group.

Although he had always kept up with the group, he had usually hovered in the middle, with an aura so dark and gloomy that nobody had approached him. But that morning, he was leading the group with an easy – if increasingly strained – grin on his face and an attitude so disgusting cheerful they all wanted to give him a good kick.

"Congratulations on making the first string, Sawamura," said Haruichi, huffing as he struggled to keep up with the pitcher.

"Oh! Harucchi!" said Eijun, raising a hand in greeting. "Call me Eijun."

"Are we close enough for that?" Haruichi asked, as blunt as always.

Although they'd cheered each other on at the practice match the day before, they had not talked much since their initial conversation.

"We will be," Eijun returned, undeterred. "Anyways, it sucks that you're second string. But with your skill, you'll make first string soon, don't worry!"

"Thanks," said Haruichi with a smile.

"_**First-years, Furuya and Sawamura.**_" Eijun perked up at the sound of his name coming from the PA system. "_**Come to the bench as soon as possible.**_"

Secretly relieved to stop running, Eijun headed to the bench. To his surprise, the assistant coach Rei, Miyuki, and Miyauchi – the other catcher on the first string – were waiting for them.

Cocking his head in confusion, Eijun looked around, but nobody else was there.

_Miyauchi? Where's...?_

"From now on, you two will be getting a pitcher's practice menu." Rei held up two sheets of paper. "The amount of practice you will be getting will be twice as much as everyone else. Good luck. And also...the two of you may be pitching in the Kantō tournament next week, so I want you to confirm signs with the catchers here."

"Yes ma'am," said Furuya. He turned to Miyuki and bowed his head. "Please take care of me."

However, without responding, Miyuki smiled awkwardly. Rei coughed.

"Ah no, Furuya," she said, to their surprise. "You'll be paired with Miyauchi. Sawamura's with Miyuki."

Raising his head, Furuya's eyes widened. He looked between the two catchers, with a lost look on his face.

"Coach's orders, Furuya," said Miyuki.

"But..."

"I saw you pitching, you know." Miyauchi looked annoyed. "If speed's all you got, I can catch them too, no problem. I've practiced using 150 km machines before."

"I-I see..."

Rei turned towards Eijun, who hadn't said anything.

"So, Sawamura? You're okay with Miyuki, right?" She smiled, pushing up her glasses.

"Um..." Eijun began slowly. "Where's Chris-senpai?"

* * *

**A/N: **Short chapter (transitional, basically just a re-telling of chapter 17) that ends with a semi-cliffhanger that I know some of you have been curious about! I actually am smack dab in the middle of finals week right now though, so I won't be updating for a while after this one (sorry).

About this chapter-

Of course I gave Miyuki a room to himself...hehe. It might not make sense because they're shoving Sawamura into a room with two other people, but I'll take creative license and say he and Azuma shared a double.

As for Kuramochi, I actually have no idea if he's ever talked to the manager girls but it seemed logical to me, given the way he acts about Wakana.

I want to extend gratitude to all reviewers, including **Clear Cyan**, for encouraging me greatly. It really makes a difference in a tiny community like this.

Some of my reviewers seem to be native spanish-speakers, so – gracias por sus comentarios!

Finally – a note about names that Clear Cyan brought up. I'm sure you've noticed but my usage of a character's name depends on whose POV each section is. The person whose POV it is will always be referred to by their first name, and the people they interact with will be called either by their first or last name depending on their level of familiarity. If this is too confusing, I am willing to go back and edit it – but I do think it adds a level of complexity to the characterization in the story.

And also, please keep in mind that whenever they talk to each other they are likely using Japanese honorifics like "-kun" and "-san" but I'm not using it for the sake of the story's flow. The only honorific I use is "senpai."

* * *

**- Glossary -**

Southpaw = A left-handed pitcher. Southpaws have an advantage in baseball because most batters are used to right-handed pitching.

_About Sawamura's pitching form_ – It's the same as from canon, which if you don't remember, is a very difficult form to properly throw a pitch from. Sawamura is only able to pull it off because of his exceptionally flexible joints. It's a terrifying form because batters are unable to predict when the ball is going to come flying out at them, making the ball seem even faster than it actually is.

Kantō tournament = The baseball tournament that takes place before the summer between schools in the Kantō region. It is regarded as a measuring stick for where your school's baseball team stands and is _unrelated _to the preliminary Kōshien regional tournaments.

**- Note of Interest -**

* In MLB, one of the best southpaws of all time is Randy Johnson (San Francisco Giants, 2009) who had a lifetime ERA (earned run average) of 3.29. In his career, he threw 37 shutouts and has the highest number of total strikeouts amongst southpaws (4,875). *


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

* * *

That morning, underneath the wide blue sky, the entire Seidō baseball team stood at attention. Their eyes were all uniformly focused on the figure who stood before them: even through his black shades, Coach Kataoka's distinctive steely gaze was unmistakable.

"Listen up! There's still two months until the summer tournament. We can't be training aimlessly these coming days. The first step in climbing a small mountain...the first step in climbing Mt. Fuji...they may be the same first step, but the resolution needed for each one is different. So..._**which mountain should we be climbing?**_"

At his words, a mixture of determination and excitement was beginning to appear on the boys' faces.

"Day after day, you must put your life on the line to achieve your goals! As long as you have high spirits, _**your training for the days ahead shall never falter!**_"

"_**Yes, sir!**_" The team roared enthusiastically back in response.

And afternoon practice began.

While the infielders and outfielders practiced their batting and fielding, Kazuya practiced in the bullpen with the pitchers.

"Nice pitch Kawakami," Kazuya called out, throwing the ball back to the second-year pitcher. "Your form looks good today."

Looking embarrassed at the praise, Kawakami caught the ball. Nodding at Kazuya's signal, he started to bring his hands together for his next pitch, when he suddenly came to a stop.

"What's wrong?" Kazuya asked.

"I was just thinking that they're pretty distracting..."

"What is?" Following the pitcher's gaze, Kazuya saw a group of girls holding up their cellphones from behind the fence. As soon as he looked in their direction, their cellphone cameras started flashing, and the braver ones began to wave their hands and call for his attention.

"You're really popular aren't you, Miyuki," Kawakami remarked, bringing his hands together once more.

"Oh I don't know," said Kazuya, bringing his mitt up. "I could swear some of them were calling your name too. Why don't you try waving back at them?"

"No thanks...I know what you did to Kuramochi." Kawakami flung the ball at Kazuya with a little extra force than usual, making him reach upwards with a grunt to catch it.

"Worth a shot," Kazuya said, the edges of his lips quirking up as he threw the ball back. Last year, he'd tricked Kuramochi into asking out a girl in their class, only to find out that she was an avid fan of the catcher. The mortified shortstop had never quite been the same afterwards.

"Hey, Miyuki."

Kazuya turned to see Miyauchi, also fully dressed in his catcher equipment, striding towards them. He'd gone back inside a while ago for a drink of water, and Kazuya had been starting to wonder what was taking the other catcher so long.

"What is it?"

"Coach wants to talk to us," said the third-year, jabbing a thumb back towards the bench.

Nodding, Kazuya got to his feet. With a wave back to Kawakami, he began to follow the other catcher back.

"So I guess coach has reached a decision about the new pitchers?" Kazuya asked, thinking out-loud more than anything.

"I suppose we'll find out soon," Miyauchi said shortly.

"Haha! True enough."

Coach Kataoka had parked himself on the bench, and was flanked by the two main assistant coaches, Rei and Ōta.

"Miyuki." Without preamble, the coach looked at him straight-on. "I'm planning on using Sawamura in the upcoming Kantō tournament. I want you to have him ready by then."

"Yes, sir," Kazuya smiled.

_This should be fun._

"Is there a reason why I'm here too, coach?" asked Miyauchi. Coach Kataoka's gaze switched to the third-year.

"Furuya will be in your care. Even if I don't use him for the Kantō tournament, I plan on letting him debut in the summer regionals."

"Yes sir," Miyauchi nodded, squaring his shoulders back. Kazuya could almost see the determined smoke steaming out of his nostrils.

It seemed that that had been all the coach had wanted to tell them; getting up, the coach and Ōta began heading to the batting area. Kazuya watched the coach's retreating back thoughtfully.

By adding two new pitchers to the lineup, which already included Tanba and Kawakami, it seemed that coach Kataoka had really gotten his mind set on the pitcher relay.

"Miyuki – I know that you've caught for both of them," Rei spoke up, tapping a pen against a clipboard. Kazuya turned towards her. "Is there anything in particular that you've noticed that should be added to their practice menus?"

"They could both work on their stamina...especially Furuya," he said after a pause. "But besides that, I think the usual should suffice for now."

With a nod, Rei scribbled something down. Then putting down the clipboard, she called for the two first-years, who soon came jogging to the bench, looking deeply out-of-breath.

"What is it?" Sawamura asked, wiping sweat off of his face with his sleeve. Noticing Kazuya and Miyauchi standing behind Rei, the first-year gave them a bewildered look. Even as Rei explained to him the situation, he continued looking back and forth between the two catchers with a curious look on his face.

"So, Sawamura?" Rei asked. "You're okay with Miyuki right?"

"Um..." For some reason, Sawamura was starting to look upset.

_Hey, hey...just yesterday you were talking about wanting to be with –_

"Where's Chris-senpai?"

Inadvertently, Kazuya felt his eyes widen.

_What?_

"What's this about, Sawamura? Chris is a second-string catcher," said Rei, looking perplexed.

"But...but..." the first-year spluttered.

"But?"

And then to everyone's bewilderment, he suddenly threw his head back, gripping his hair.

"_**Ahhh!**_ I messed up!"

* * *

Back at home in Hokkaidō, Satoru had come to think of the snow as his friend.

Even when he was alone, it was his constant companion, always falling in place quietly and serenely around him. And best of all, no matter how fast he threw his balls, the piles of snow were an impenetrable block that always stopped them, even if no one else could.

And then he came all the way to Tokyo, and for the first time in his life, his constant companion was no longer there. Tokyo was much hotter – much more crowded than even Sapporo, the largest city in Hokkaidō, with people everywhere at all times – but in the beginning, he'd never felt so singularly alone.

However, he then found something that he'd never found in Hokkaido – the crisp, clean sound of Miyuki's mitt catching his ball. And with that – even in this alien, sweltering city, Satoru knew he had found the place where he belonged.

_I was right to come here..._

...or so he had thought.

"Ah no, Furuya," said the assistant coach, glancing at him. "You'll be paired with Miyauchi. Sawamura's with Miyuki."

Satoru froze, and then immediately, he turned to Miyuki.

_Tell her she's wrong. You're with me. You're my catcher._

But –

"Coach's orders, Furuya," said Miyuki. Satoru felt his hands beginning to tremble. He looked back and forth between Miyuki and the assistant coach, because – because –

_This is my place...t__his is where I belong!_

He lowered his eyes and then stopped trembling. His hands dropped to his sides.

Because _neither of them were looking at him_. Both of their gazes were firmly fixed on the other first-year pitcher. They'd already forgotten about him. Their mouths were moving and they were saying something, but Satoru had stopped processing everything because there was only him and the hot sun high above him that pounded harshly at the back of his neck.

Suddenly, a massive hand grabbed him by his arm, jolting him out of his haze.

Blinking, Satoru realized that the others had disappeared and it was just this other catcher who now stared at him with animosity obvious in his eyes.

Satoru could tell, because _they were the same kind of eyes that had followed him everywhere_ back at home.

"Are you listening? The coach is thinking of using you as a closer, but he wants me to check..." And the catcher's mouth kept moving, but Satoru had stopped listening. His hands curled up into fists by his side.

_It's this all over again. He won't be able to catch my balls. If Miyuki-senpai's not the one who's going to be catching for me, what's the point of being here? I should just –_

Satoru jerked backwards as he felt an unknowable force clamp itself around his nether region. Raising his eyes, he saw the other catcher looking bullishly back at him.

"Um...senpai..."

"That's _Miyauchi_-senpai," the third-year said, continuing to squeeze Satoru's balls. "Now calm down. I know I'm not as good as Miyuki, but I can catch your balls."

_Literally..._

* * *

After his initial outburst, Sawamura had quieted down. Once Rei left them alone, he followed Kazuya into the empty bullpen with a morose look on his face. Turning around, he dug his elbow into the first-year's side.

"Who died?" Kazuya asked jokingly. Unexpectedly, Sawamura jerked at his words.

"D-d-die?" he stammered, looking wildly at Kazuya, who felt himself sweat.

_He's surprisingly jumpy about some things..._

"I mean, what's got you so down?"

"Oh. Well, I forgot about Chris-senpai." With a glum look on his face, Sawamura began to turn the ball in his hands.

"Have you ever even met him?" Kazuya frowned; Chris didn't usually join the rest of them for team practice, as he was doing his own rehabilitation at the training center.

"Ah...I saw him play in a game in middle school," Sawamura muttered. "He was amazing. I thought I'd be able to form a battery with him sometimes if I came to Seidō."

Kazuya paused. He wouldn't have felt comfortable sharing this information, but if it would clear up the situation for Sawamura...

"Chris-senpai tore his shoulder last year. He's in rehabilitation at the moment, but he won't be able to play baseball this year." He smiled ruefully. "That's the only reason why I'm the starting catcher this year."

"I know," said Sawamura, his hands tightening over the ball.

For a minute, Kazuya observed the first-year in silence. Sawamura really was a mystery: there was the loud-mouth he'd seen several months back when the pitcher had been visiting Seidō, but then there was also the strangely tormented mood swings of the month past. On top of that was the unbelievable upgrade in pitching skill, and now, this unexpected reaction towards Chris... Kazuya considered himself a proficient reader of people, but where this first-year was concerned, he found himself stumped.

"You're too agitated to throw," Kazuya finally spoke up. "Go cool down with some fielding practice."

To his surprise, Sawamura shook his head.

"It's times like these when I want to pitch," he said. The catcher shrugged.

"Well then, let's go over your pitches," he said, punching his mitt. "I've seen your cutter and four-seam, now show me your changeup."

Wordlessly, Sawamura nodded. Changing his grip on the ball in his mitt, the first-year pulled his arm back. Gritting his teeth, he flung it forwards. Calculating the ball's trajectory, Kazuya positioned his mitt.

_Hm. It's not slowing dow –_

His eyes widened, and he jerked his mitt sideways, but it was too late – the ball glanced off the side of his mitt and fell to the ground.

Slowly, as he looked up from the ball to Sawamura's focused expression, an astonished smile began to form on his face. Picking up the ball, he threw it back.

_So this is Sawamura's naturally moving ball...and he's got his powerful fastball and his horizontally breaking cutter too. If he just had a vertically breaking ball..._

"That was my eagle-grip, but I've got a circle changeup too," Sawamura said as he caught the ball. Kazuya nodded, and held his mitt out, and this time, caught the more traditional off-pitch ball.

After several more pitches, Kazuya had just called for a four-seam when he heard the crunching of heavyset footsteps behind him. Even before Sawamura's suddenly alert expression had registered in his mind, Kazuya turned around and saw to his surprise that coach Kataoka had come to the bullpen.

"Coa – " Kazuya started, but was cut off as Sawamura suddenly dashed past him. Screeching to a halt before the coach, the two stared at each other in a duel of death glares.

Coach Kataoka mutely crossed his arms across his chest. And then without warning, Sawamura dropped to his knees before the coach.

"_**Boss!**_" the first-year roared out, bowing his head. "_**Please let me form a battery with Chris-senpai for just one game!**_"

Kazuya blinked.

_Boss...?_

"What is this about?" the coach asked, his expression unchanging.

"It looks like he looked up to Chris-senpai before and wanted to form a battery with him, coach," Kazuya provided.

"Chris is an injured reserve player. I cannot use him in any of Seidō's games," said the coach. His eyes narrowed dangerously; Kazuya felt a chill run up his spine. "Or are you asking to sacrifice the team based on your whims?"

Sawamura looked up with an expression of fiery determination on his face.

"No! I'm going to do my utmost this year to ensure Seidō gets to Kōshien! But I owe a lot to Chris-senpai – back in...middle school, I really looked up to him, general. And the way he goes around now, with his eyes all dead – it's not right! He, more than anyone else, deserves to play!"

Without responding, the coach mutely looked down at the first-year, who was still resolutely bowed over. In the ensuing silence, Kazuya heard the sound of approaching footsteps; turning, he saw Furuya and Miyauchi walking into the bullpen. At the sight of the way the coach and Sawamura were situated, they came to a sudden stop, their eyes widening.

"You're going to ensure Seidō gets to Kōshien?" Finally, the coach spoke up in his gravelly voice. "Those are big words from a first-year who has yet to prove himself." The first-year's hands balled into fists by his side. "You're going to be the starting pitcher for the Kantō tournament preliminaries, Sawamura. If you can show to me there that you have the strength to do as you claim...then perhaps I'll listen to the rest of what you've got to say."

Surprised, Kazuya looked towards the coach, but his face was unreadable.

_That's surprisingly lenient for the coach...he must be even more concerned about Chris that I thought, for him to say that much._

"...will you let Chris-senpai play then?" Sawamura asked quietly. Kazuya returned his attention to the first-year, who was slowly getting up to his feet. He brushed the dirt off of his knees.

"What?" The coach said. The first-year lifted his head, to reveal blazing eyes.

"If I can pitch a shutout in the preliminaries...will you let Chris-senpai play then?"

Kazuya's mouth dropped open.

_Idiot, no matter how good you are, the opponent is Yokohama Academy! There's no way the coach will let you pitch the whole game!_

But to his surprise –

"Very well," the coach agreed. Sawamura's face lit up. "However, Seidō has no need for braggarts who put their needs above their team...so if you let even a single batter on base, _**you'll be getting off the mound.**_"

_So essentially...a perfect game?_

Leaving behind a shell-shocked Sawamura, Kazuya watched the coach leave, passing by Furuya and Miyauchi as he did so. Miyauchi gave Kazuya a significant look before grabbing Furuya by the arm and leading him out of the bullpen as well.

"Well...you've really done it now," Kazuya said at last, turning to the frozen first-year. "We're facing Yokohama Academy you know. They're a really strong veteran team, probably the best in Kanagawa." Sawamura didn't respond. "It's not too late to beg for forgiveness from the coach."

"...no...I've come this far." The pitcher shook his head. "If I want to show everyone that I'm not just talk...if I want to show Chris-senpai what I can do, I'll have to do this. And anyways, I trust in Seidō's defense. I just have to make sure the batters hit them where I want them to."

_That's true...but him speaking like a veteran is kind of annoying..._

Kazuya felt a wicked smile tug at his lips but quickly quashed it.

"But you know – Chris is injured. If you really wanted to help him recover, it'd be better for him not to catch now. Have you even talked to him about this?"

"No, but – "

"Come to think of it, I don't even think he's coming to the Yokohama game. He's got some kind of special training exercise that day..."

"_**What?!**_"

But as Sawamura begin to flap around in agitation, Kazuya felt his teasing mood fade. He folded his arms across his chest and contemplated the pitcher before him.

Coach Kataoka had just told the first-year to pitch a perfect game against Kanagawa's best team. As far-fetched as it sounded, Kazuya did not think the coach would have brought it up had he not thought that there was even a small possibility that they could do so. Would Sawamura be able to rise to the challenge? Or would he crumble, right at the starting line?

His hands tightened around his arms, as he felt something akin to thrill rising within his chest.

_Regardless...this is as much of a test for me as it is for Sawamura._

* * *

After another long day at the training center with his father, Chris finally settled into the car. His father got into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. As he turned on the engine, his father's favorite rock music began to blast through the car stereo, and when he began pulling out of the parking space, he looked back at Chris.

"Good work today," he said in his heavily-accented Japanese. "If you keep this up, we'll be on track to making a full recovery by next year."

Chris nodded. Letting his aching muscles ease back against the seat, he silently looked out the window at the changing scenery, keeping track of the passing time through the music. After six tracks, Seidō's campus finally came into view, and as it ended, they were passing by the baseball fields. It was dark, but he could still hear the unmistakable cracking sound of bats from beyond the fence. Chris closed his eyes.

Once they'd driven up to the dorm gates, his father stopped the car to let him off.

"Get a good night's rest, son." With a nod, his father drove away. Watching the car's taillights grow fainter in the night, Chris shouldered his equipment bag – and winced in reflex, at the throb of a phantom pain. Walking up the stairs to his room, he saw that the light in the room was on; opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of the younger Kominato changing out of his uniform.

"Welcome back, Chris-senpai," said the first-year, looking worn out. Chris nodded and put his things down. "We thought you'd be back soon, so Kanemaru's getting an extra drink at the vending machine for you too."

"Ah...thanks," he said, sitting down. Opening his desk drawer, he pulled out his training notebook to make some notes on that day's exercise. But before he could even pen a single word, the dorm room's door slammed open with a bang to reveal Kanemaru, panting heavily. Seeing Chris, his face lit up with a look of excitement in his eyes.

"Chris-senpai! You're here!"

By the look of his empty hands, he'd gotten side-tracked.

"What is it?" Chris asked quietly.

"I just heard from Ono...and it might just be a rumor – but apparently, someone overheard Sawamura and the coach make a bet!"

_Sawamura...is that irregular southpaw first-year, if I'm right._

"A bet?" Kominato asked curiously. "About what?"

"If Sawamura doesn't pitch a perfect game in the Kantō tournament preliminary, he's getting kicked off of first-string! But if he does – Chris-senpai, _**you're getting put in first-string!**_"

Chris felt his eyes widen, as for the first time in a while, a jolt of something he couldn't quite name ran through his body.

_What...?_

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry about the long wait! My finals have been over since Friday (sorry) but I was struggling over how to deal with the issue with Chris. I know it's a little...forced, but well, it's the best thing I could come up with (while also adding some extra excitement). So make your bets! Who thinks Eijun can do it?

(Note: Kanemaru's interpretation of the rumor is not exactly what the coach said, it's been exaggerated after being put through the rumor mill – i.e. the stuff about getting kicked off of and getting put in first-string).

I also know that Haruichi is not in Kanemaru/Chris's room in canon but I put him in there for the purposes of this story.

We'll get some insight into what Eijun's planning exactly next chapter (or does he even have one?) as well as the start of the Yokohama game – the first real baseball game in this story. Since most of the game wasn't shown in canon, I'll be taking a lot of liberties with it, including the Yokohama team lineup. Expect to see a lot of characters from other baseball anime (namely Major, Cross Game, and Oofuri) showing up...

Moving on to the reviews – thank you so much for the response! To answer some guest reviewers:

To Me-Anne – Sorry! I always forget to respond to guest reviews in the author note...thanks for your reviews, though I wish I could pm you back properly. Goro Shigeno – No, Major came out before Chapman set the record (and I don't think Goro ever threw 105, his max was 102-103 wasn't it?), Furuya being a closer – We all know that Furuya has poor control but for some reason at the beginning of the series, Miyuki thinks that Furuya has good control. They haven't realized yet that he takes a while to warmup.

To baseball nerd – I'm glad you like it! Yeah my favorite part about DnA (besides the bromance) was the baseball so it seemed odd to me to see so many fics without any baseball. My weakest point in all of my stories has always been my pacing, so if you see any odd breaks, please do point it out!

To Ciel – Thank you! Your english seems fine to me and even if it isn't, the fact that you took the time to review means a lot to me.

To Nurul-Malaysia – Thank you, and hello to you in Malaysia (?)!

* * *

**- Glossary -**

Battery = A collective term for the pitcher and catcher.

Shutout = A game in which a pitcher pitches the entire game without allowing the opposing team any runs.

Perfect game = A game in which a pitcher pitches the entire game and doesn't let any opposing players get on base – so no hits, walks, or hit-by-pitches.

Eijun's Changeups = He has two types of changeups; one is with an eagle-grip, another is the more traditional circle changeup. The eagle-grip adds Eijun's natural movement to the pitch, making it a doubly hard ball to hit (and catch).

**- Note of Interest -**

* In MLB history, a perfect game has been achieved only 23 times. The most recent perfect game was pitched by Felix Hernandez (Seattle Mariners) on August 15, 2012. In Nippon Professional Baseball (Japanese pro baseball league), a perfect game has been achieved only 15 times, with the most recent official perfect game being pitched by Hiromi Makihara (Yomiuri Giants) on May 18, 1994. *


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six: Eijun's Birthday Bonus Chapter**

* * *

_ ~ Approximately four months "ago"... ~_

The morning of Seidō's quarterfinal match against Sensen in the Spring tournament, the first string members hunched over in a circle. One by one, each member's right hand rose to cover their heart.

"_**Who are we?**_" The captain began.

"_**SEIDŌ, THE CHAMPIONS!**_" The first-string members roared back in response.

"_**Who's shed the most sweat?**_"

"_**SEIDŌ!**_"

"_**Shed the most tears?**_"

"_**SEIDŌ!**_"

"_**ARE YOU READY TO FIGHT?**_"

"_**YES!**_"

"_**Bearing pride in our hearts, we have just one goal!**_" The captain pointed upwards at the sky, and as one, the members followed suit."_**THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP! LET'S DO THIS!**_"

"_**YEAH!**_"

As the first-string members continued to roar towards the sky, the new first-years and second string members could only gaze in a mixture of awe and envy.

"Awesome..."

"Their aura's completely different!"

"I've always wanted to do that cheer..."

"Man, I wanna be a part of the first string too!"

With their equipment slung across their back, the first string members began to make their way toward the bus.

"We're leaving soon!" One of the assistant coaches called out to the other members. "If you want to come watch the game, get on the bus now."

"Yes sir!" They answered enthusiastically, and dashed towards the bus. The dugout was soon empty – except for one lone first-year who continued to stare fiercely at the passing first string members.

"You're not coming to see us play, Aramaki?" A second-year named Seto called out to him. "Even if you're in training, you're still allowed to watch the games, you know."

"...I'm going to stay behind," Aramaki responded, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "If I don't practice when you don't...I'll never be able to join you guys."

Forcibly turning his back to the bus, he broke into a sprint across the empty baseball field.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set as the Seidō baseball team members settled into their dinner at the dorm dining room. In celebration of their overwhelming victory over Sensen the day before, the cooks had prepared a feast of curry tonkatsu, and everyone eagerly dug into the deliciously hot meal in a rare moment of quiet, punctured only by the call for seconds.

"Secon – " Seto broke off with a loud burp. Pounding his chest with his fist, he followed up with a bubble of smaller burps. "'scuse me."

"You're excused," Okumura sighed from behind him.

After picking up their second servings of curry, they began to weave past the crowded tables, looking for an open seat. Spotting a pair of first-years getting up from a table near the back, they slipped in, plunking down their dinner trays on the table.

As Seto pulled back the chair, he noticed the boy furiously gobbling down a bowl of curry from across the table.

"Oh if it isn't Aramaki?" he said with a grin. "How was practice?" The first-year pitcher glanced up.

"Oh it's just you Seto-senpai," he mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

"What do you mean it's _just_ me?"

Without responding, Aramaki continued to determinedly chew. As the two second-years began to tuck into their food, he swallowed and then looked around curiously.

"Everyone's pretty quiet...what's going on?" Aramaki picked up a glass of water and began glugging it down.

"Hm? You don't know?" said Seto, looking bemused. "Tomorrow's the game between the first-years and the upperclassmen."

Making a sound like a drowning man coming up for air, Aramaki choked, sending out a spurt of water in the second-year's direction. With a yelp, Seto jumped out of his seat.

"It's become a tradition at Seidō to let the first-years show off their skills in a game against the upperclassmen," explained Okumura as he watched Seto wipe down his shirt. "It's the fastest way for a first-year to get in the first string now."

"We're gonna have to go up against Sawamura and Furuya-senpai?" The first-year sitting beside Aramaki spoke up, looking anxious. "Can we even get on base with them pitching?"

"No," said Okumura bluntly, and both first-years' faces fell.

"You're not going up against the first string," said Seto, returning to his chair. "You'll be going up against the second string."

"Oh," said Aramaki, looking relieved – but at the same time, a little disappointed.

"You'd better perform well if you don't wanna lose your spot on the first string," said Okumura mildly as he took a sip of his miso soup. Seto made a face; he'd made a batting error in the last game, and had been taken off the starting lineup.

"Oh? So am I gonna be pitching against you, Seto-senpai?" Aramaki said with a grin of relish.

"You'll be lucky to pitch for a single inning, Aramaki," said the first-year beside him, making the pitcher scowl.

"Hey guys," said a new voice. They all turned to see Seidō's vice captain standing at the head of the table with his arms crossed across his chest. "Have you seen Sawamura?"

"Kanemaru-senpai! What're you looking for Sawamura-senpai for?" asked Seto, jumping to his feet. The tall third-year glanced at him.

"The coach's looking for him. He wants us to go over some videos of the team we're up against in the semifinals."

"The last time I saw him, he was looking at his cellphone," said Okumura. Looking perplexed, Kanemaru uncrossed his arms.

"Is it just me, or is he permanently attached to his damn phone lately?"

"Well yeah..." Okumura shrugged. "It's probably Miyuki-senpai."

Blinking, Kanemaru and Seto looked at each other, and then at Okumura, who continued to nonchalantly spoon curry into his mouth.

"Miyuki-senpai?" Aramaki asked curiously. "Who's that?"

* * *

Turning a baseball in his hand, Eijun leaned against one of the nets as he waited, trying not to think about his loudly protesting stomach. It'd been a hard and grueling practice, and he'd been looking forward to the promised victory dinner at the dining room, but the last time he'd seen Miyuki had been way back in March. He could always pick up some instant ramen from the vending machine later, after all. What did it matter if the menu happened to be his most favorite dish in the whole world?

His stomach whined insistently again. Patting it tenderly, Eijun tried to think about something besides what the rest of the team was probably digging into at that very moment. Any other thought was fine, just not the way he imagined the rich, thick golden sauce must look as it was poured over the chicken that'd been breaded and fried to perfec –

_No! Don't think about the curry. Anything but the curry._

Casting his eyes around the bullpen, they passed over an abandoned mitt – _one of the first-years must've forgotten it _– and then stopped at the sight of the baseball diamond that lay just beyond the dividing fence. Stepping forward so that his nose pressed right up against the cold metal, Eijun silently took in the way the shadows across the field were slowly growing longer. It was almost zen-like, the way the rays of the setting sun bleached the field, the way the shadows changed ever so imperceptibly as the seconds of the day slowly but surely ticked by. Come to think of it, that was kind of the way it felt when he stood there on the mound and it was just a battle between him and the batter. Everything else faded and time became irrelevant, and it was just the batter glaring back at him and the sweat trickling down his brow and –

His stomach grumbled.

Eijun let his head drop forward, rattling the metal fence.

_I give up._

Letting out a sigh, Eijun stepped backwards away from the fence. Pulling out his cellphone, he flipped it open. The phone's glowing screen lighting up his face in the growing darkness, he was just about to dial a number when an amused voice rang out behind him.

"What's Seidō's captain doing outside here while everyone else's eating dinner?"

Eijun whirled around, a grin already beginning to form on his face.

"Miyuki!"

"That's still Miyuki-_senpai_ to you," said the older boy. Wearing the casual clothes of a college student, he stood just inside the bullpen's entrance. As he stepped toward him, Eijun carefully took in his frame, noting that he seemed to have regained some much-needed weight – or had bought new clothes that better suited his new body type. "You should've eaten dinner first. I was going to talk with Rei first, but I saw you waiting and felt bad for you."

"Tell me that first then," Eijun muttered; his stomach growled in agreement. "So? What're you here for?"

"I won't be here long," said Miyuki. "But I thought I'd drop by today, since I don't know when I'll be able to come by again."

"What? Why not?" said Eijun.

"It takes two hours to get here by railway you know," said Miyuki mildly. His lips quirked up in a half-smile. "And there's not much left for me to show you. You _are_ the second Narumiya, after all." Eijun scowled heavily, making the older boy laugh. "Haha! Just kidding, just kidding. So...what do the new first-years look like? Anyone the team could use for the summer?"

"You should've come tomorrow to check out the showcase match if you're interested," said Eijun. "I'd have reserved a seat in the alumni area just for you. Right next to that old guy who farts and screams a lot, that is."

"If you're so desperate to introduce me to your father, Sawamura, you could just ask," said Miyuki with a smirk. Eijun frowned – and then, rethinking it over, shrugged it off.

"Sounds more like what my gramps would've done than my dad," said the ace pitcher, with a faint fond smile. Suddenly, as a thought struck him, he paused. "Speaking of which...how're you and your dad?"

The teasing look immediately slid off of Miyuki's face, and was replaced with a dark shadow.

"The same as always...as always," he said in a nonchalant voice, looking away momentarily. After a few seconds of silence, Miyuki cleared his throat in a transparent effort to change the topic. "So the other reason why I'm here today is...your birthday's coming up soon, isn't it?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, it is." Eijun scratched his head. "I almost forgot. Huh...I'm gonna be 18." He grinned. "I'll be the same age as you again, Miyuki-_senpai._" Suddenly he perked up, as he noticed that Miyuki was reaching into his blazer's pocket for something. "Did you get me a present?"

"Catch," said the other boy in response, tossing something yellow that, as it spun through the air, sparkled once in the last receding rays of sunlight. With a practiced hand, Eijun reached out instinctively and grabbed it out of the air. Looking down at the glass bottle in his hand, he blinked.

"...ramune?"

"Haha! And not just any ramune, _orange-_flavored ramune. You've been wanting some, right?"

Eijun had used to occasionally gripe about the lack of the soft drink in Seidō's dorms' vending machines, but he'd never thought Miyuki had actually been listening.

"...thanks," he said, squeezing the bottle tightly in his hand. For several seconds, it was quiet, and Eijun was just about to speak up again when he heard the fizzing of a can being opened. Looking up, he saw Miyuki smiling at him with a can of pocari sweat in his hand.

"We're still underage so we'll have to do with this," he said, raising the can invitingly towards him. Eijun stepped forward, noting offhandedly the way the fence's shadow divided the other boy's face, and they clinked the two drinks together. "Happy birthday Sawamura."

* * *

**A/N: **I wanted to have the Kantō preliminary chapter ready by today but I'm having a little trouble with the structure of it...but I still wanted to write a chapter for Eijun's birthday today (May 15)! Because incidentally it's also my birthday, haha! (Though...it might be May 16 now for some of you).

For those of you who are unaware, in canon, Seto and Okumura are future Seidō first-years who are seen watching some of Seidō's games. Aramaki is completely made up (though I named him after Aramaki Atsushi, a pitcher in Japan's Baseball Hall of Fame). I originally intended on having Aramaki run into Eijun at the end and have some Sawamura-senpai-worshipping going on but I then decided I'd like to give Eijun and Miyuki some alone time...so the first two parts of this chapter don't really serve a purpose except to show you the future generations of Seidō.

I also think that Eijun would make a great captain (he was captain of his middle school team too), and Kanemaru seems like a pretty dependable vice captain, so that's that little detail.

Anyways since this is a "bonus" chapter that doesn't really progress the plot (though hopefully it fills in a little background) I've also provided some other information:

A concise timeline that may prove helpful for understanding the Japanese high school baseball schedule –

**General Timeline**

**Spring Kōshien (invitational)**: Late March - early April

_Spring semester (new school year) begins April 1_

**Spring Tournament**: April

(Ichidaisan vs Seidō, Spring tournament quarterfinals: late April)

_~ approx. end of April/beginning of May: Game between 1st years and second string in Eijun's first year ~_

(Kantō Tournament Yokohama vs Seidō preliminary: early May)

_~ Seidō summer training camp: mid June ~_

**Summer Tournament**: July

**Summer Kōshien**: early - mid August

**Fall Tournament**: September - early October

* * *

And next, here is the planned batting order for the Yokohama game – can you recognize all of the players on the Yokohama lineup?

**Seidō****:**

**Batting order-**

1. Kuramochi Yōichi (6)

2. Kominato Ryousuke (4)

3. Isashiki Jun (8)

4. Yūki Tetsuya (3)

5. Masuko Tōru (5)

6. Miyuki Kazuya (2)

7. Shirasu Kenjirō (9)

8. Sakai Ichirō (7)

9. Sawamura Eijun (18)

**Defense-**

1. Sawamura Eijun (pitcher)

2. Miyuki Kazuya (catcher)

3. Captain Yūki Tetsuya (1st baseman)

4. Kominato Ryousuke (2nd baseman)

5. Masuko Tōru (3rd baseman)

6. Kuramochi Yōichi (shortstop)

7. Sakai Ichirō (left fielder)

8. Isashiki Jun (center fielder)

9. Shirasu Kenjirō (right fielder)

**Yokohama****:**

**Batting order-**

1. Shimizu Taiga (7)

2. Izumi Kōsuke (8)

3. Tajima Yūichirō (5)

4. Shigeno Goro (9)

5. Azuma Yūhei (3)

6. Kitamura Kou (4)

7. Yaginuma Hayato (6)

8. Abe Takaya (2)

9. Mihashi Ren (1)

**Defense-**

1. Mihashi Ren (pitcher)

2. Abe Takaya (catcher)

3. Azuma Yūhei (1st baseman)

4. Kitamura Kou (2nd baseman)

5. Tajima Yūichirō (3rd baseman)

6. Yaginuma Hayato (shortstop)

7. Shimizu Taiga (left fielder)

8. Izumi Kōsuke (center fielder)

9. Shigeno Goro (right fielder)


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

The morning of the Kantō tournament preliminaries, it was a perfect day for baseball: sunny, but not to the extent that the glare would affect the players, and nearly zero chance of rain.

"_**We will now begin the first round of the Kantō tournament between Yokohama Academy and Seidō High School.**_"

As the siren signaling the start of the game rang piercingly through the stadium, the crowd began to murmur at the sight of Seidō's starting pitcher, who was tossing a rosin bag in his hand.

"That pitcher's a first-year, isn't he?"

"Where's Tanba?"

"What's Seidō doing? This is _Yokohama_."

Yokohama Academy's players, gathered in their dugout, were shooting withering glares at their opposing team.

"They're starting off with a first-year pitcher?" said the Yokohama coach, an irritated look on his face. Making an impatient snipping sound with his tongue, he turned to his gathered players. "We'll make them regret that. Listen up! We're going to take as many runs as we can this first inning!"

"Yes sir!" they roared back.

"_**Top of the first inning, Yokohama Academy's offense starts with batting leadoff, left fielder, Shimizu.**_"

Stepping up to the plate, the batter tapped his bat once on the ground, before lifting it up into batting position.

"Play ball!" cried the umpire.

For a moment, it was quiet, as Seidō's pitcher looked at the catcher's signals. Then, with a nod of his head, he raised his front leg.

* * *

It had been a long time since Eijun had felt as awkward as he did the moment he ran headfirst into Chris. It was the morning after he'd waged his bet with the coach, and unfortunately, rumors about it had already started to circulate around the team, growing more and more exaggerated with every telling.

"No, Kanemaru, for the _last_ time, I'm not getting deported to Korea – ow!" Running into a sturdy frame just as he turned around the corner, Eijun stumbled back a few steps, bumping into Kanemaru who fell down to the ground. As Eijun lowered a hand to help him up, he glanced up sideways. "Sorry about that, I..." He trailed off, his mouth dropping open a fraction. "Chris-senpai!"

His heart jumped to his throat at the nostalgic sight of the catcher dressed in Seidō's uniform. After Eijun's first year, Chris had graduated and moved to America to finish his rehabilitation. He'd returned for Miyuki's funeral, but of course, he'd been dressed in a black suit...

"Have we met?" The third-year asked quietly, looking down at him with soulless eyes. Shaking his head to clear it, Eijun gulped nervously; it'd been a while since he'd last seen Chris look so lifeless. But at the same time –

_This just tells me that I wasn't wrong for making that bet with the coach._

Eijun bent over in a low bow.

"Chris-senpai – I'm Sawamura Eijun, a first-year pitcher! I've admired you for a while as a catcher, and hope to form a battery with you!"

"...I see," he answered in his calm, low voice.

"Chris-senpai, this guy's the one I told you about last night," Kanemaru said, slinging an arm around Eijun's shoulder. "The one who made that bet with the coach!"

"I see."

Privately, Eijun thought that in a contest of who could last the longest without changing their expression, Chris could have given coach Kataoka a run for his money. Setting his shoulders back, his mind raced to find the words to best approach the estranged catcher.

"You must think I'm just a stupid first-year with no idea of what I'm getting into," he grounded out. "After all, nobody thinks I'll be able to do it. But you understand that feeling don't you?"

For a split second, Eijun thought he saw something flicker in Chris's eyes – but then it was gone.

"This is the first time we've met, so I can't say I have any opinion of you at all," he said. Then with a nod towards Kanemaru, he began to walk away.

Eijun's hands clenched into fists.

"I can tell that you don't think I can do it," he called out. The sound of his footsteps faltering, Chris stopped. "And truthfully speaking – I don't know either. But I want to tell you here and now, that I'm going to give it my all. I'm going to be completely serious about it. You think I can't do it...but if I can, if I do pitch a perfect game – will you play again?"

After a pause, Chris mutely turned around and gave Eijun an indecipherable look – and then slowly, he started walking away once more. Once he'd disappeared from sight, Eijun let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Why do you want Chris-senpai to play so much, anyways?" Kanemaru asked curiously, patting him on the shoulder. "He's injured, and on the second string. I don't think I've ever even seen him play."

"You don't understand how amazing he is," Eijun spat out.

It galled him, the way most of the other players on the team didn't seem to realize just how good Chris was, and just thinking about some of the idiotic things he'd said to Chris back in his original first year made him wince. It was small wonder Miyuki had gotten so mad at him back then.

But the way the catcher was now – dead-eyed and listless – nobody ever would. Eijun wasn't sure what exactly had caused Chris to change in his first year, but if he had to guess, it had been the chance to play once again in a game. It made sense – you had to get back in the game to realize how much you loved it, after all.

Leaving Kanemaru behind, Eijun began to march towards the baseball fields, determined to get an early start on the day's running exercises.

He'd get Chris back on the team this time around, no matter the cost.

* * *

As the players lined up before the game to bow, Kazuya had to hold back a grimace at the sight of Yokohama's batting order. Starting with Tajima as the third-hole, Shigeno, Azuma and Kitamura followed in a neat line, and it was widely acknowledged that all four could have batted as cleanups for any other school. If that wasn't daunting, he didn't know what was.

And on top of that, they looked fired up, directing burning gazes at the first-year pitcher Seidō had dared to bring out as their starter.

The pitcher in question was currently looking up at the bleachers instead. With a frown, Kazuya followed his gaze to see the rest of the Seidō baseball team, who were currently cheering. Then, his eyes alighting on a tall foreign-looking third-year near the back, he felt his mouth form an 'o' in understanding. It seemed Chris had decided to come after all.

Heading back to the catcher's box, Kazuya glanced at Sawamura – and felt himself sweat. The first-year's eyes were burning even more fiercely than they had back in the showcase game, a look of resolve etched across his face.

_Don't let yourself get too tense, Sawamura._

But as the game started, it seemed that his worry had been unnecessary. Just as he'd asked for, Sawamura's cutter slammed across the outside corner of the plate directly into his mitt.

"_**Strike!**_"

Unable to help himself, Kazuya grinned at the batter's stunned expression.

_Haha! That's my favorite kind of look._

He threw the ball back to Sawamura, who grabbed it out of the air with his mitt. Glaring down at the batter, the first-year's eyes glowed intensely with the force of a small storm.

Kazuya glanced to his left; looking rattled, the batter was readjusting his grip on his bat.

"_You scared him. He'll be watching the next ball, so let's go with one to the inside."_

Sawamura nodded. Lifting his front leg up, his foot then slammed down on the rubber as his arm flung forward at the last instant.

"_**Strike!**_"

Kazuya felt his lips quirk up into a smile as he threw the ball back. Despite his seemingly hot-headed nature, Sawamura was throwing calmly and with good control. If he could keep this up, the perfect game could very well be within their reach. That was, as long as Kazuya didn't let himself get out-read...

"_Now show me a high fastball._"

With another nod, Sawamura raised his front leg and flung the ball forward. The batter swung – but with a slamming sound, the ball was safely smoking in Kazuya's mitt.

"_**Strike!**_"

Kazuya threw the ball back to the mound. Glancing at the Yokohama dugout, he saw to his satisfaction that they had fallen quiet. The leadoff batter was hurrying back to the bench, casting an anxious look back at the mound where Sawamura was tossing a rosin bag.

Kazuya grinned.

_Get scared, get scared. That'll make you all the easier to predict._

"_**Batting second, center fielder Izumi.**_"

Stepping into the batting box, the batter swung his bat experimentally once before settling into position. Looking back again at the dugout, Kazuya saw the Yokohama coach signaling to the batter, who touched his helmet in response.

_Izumi...he doesn't look all that impressive, but he's got a good eye for easy pitches. He's a switch hitter too – we'll have to be careful with this one._

"_A low moving fastball to the inside," _Kazuya signaled, and Sawamura nodded. Quickly afterwards, the ball flew past the plate, and as expected, the batter didn't move.

"_**Ball!**_"

Lowering his bat, the batter held out a hand to the mound as he adjusted his footing. When he returned to batting position, Kazuya moved his mitt to the outside, and Sawamura nodded. As he flung his hand out, the batter swung – but just as he did so, the cutter broke up away from his bat, glancing off of the top of the bat. As it spiraled into the air directly above them, Kazuya held out his mitt to easily catch the pop fly.

"_**Out!**_"

Rising to his feet to throw the ball back to Sawamura, Kazuya glanced at the Yokohama dugout and saw to his glee that the coach had a dirty look on his face. He wouldn't be surprised if, after seeing a first-year pitcher on the mound, the opposing coach had ordered his team to score as many runs as possible in the first inning.

"_**Batting third, third baseman Tajima.**_"

Tapping the dirt off of his cleats with his bat, the third batter got into batting position. Kazuya glanced up at the boy, and was unsurprised to see that despite the leadoff batters' failures, the third-hole was in a completely relaxed but effective stance.

Tajima looked even smaller in real life than he had on TV, but his 0.410 batting average wasn't something Kazuya was going to take lightly. Tajima marked the beginning of Yokohama's renowned power lineup: it'd be best to crush the head of it right now and cripple their second offence in the second inning.

Kazuya signaled, and then punching the mitt with his fist, raised it up. Sawamura nodded, and bringing his hands together, his foot slammed down on the ground. His arm whipped forward and the ball shot towards the batter, breaking sharply across the corner of the plate.

"_**Strike!**_"

* * *

"_**Bottom of the first inning, and the offense for Seidō High School starts from the lead-off, shortstop Kuramochi.**_"

Stretching his shoulders one last time, Yōichi stood up with his bat in hand. He glanced up at the scoreboard, where a '0' was glowing beside 'Yokohama.'

_That's one inning and three men down...meaning eight innings and twenty-four more outs to go, Sawamura, hyaha!_

He tipped his head to the umpire and stepped into the batting box. Holding his bat up in the air, he eyed the opposing pitcher.

Since Yokohama was in a different prefecture, Seidō had played against them only once last year. The Kantō tournament wasn't important enough for them to bother personally taping Yokohama's games, so most of their preparation for the match had been by going through the official tapes of some of their prefectural games, as well as published scoreboards of Yokohama's games against other schools. Their starting pitcher, a second-year named Mihashi, hadn't pitched in any of the recordings, but they had some of his games listed in the scorebook – and even on paper he had stood out.

From what Yōichi had seen while the pitcher was warming up, his pitch speed was underwhelming – in fact, bordering on inadequate. But the fact of the matter was, he'd pitched shutouts against some of Kanagawa's best teams, meaning there had to be something else about his pitching.

As the pitcher began his motion, Yōichi tightened his grip on his bat. His role as the leadoff meant it was his job to get on base. Whatever tricks this pitcher had up his sleeve, it didn't matter. All he had to do was hit the ball and then his legs would follow up.

_You're in over your head, Sawamura...but still, I'll do my part to get you that perfect game!_

The ball flew by him, and as he watched it pass by, Yōichi's lips drew back into a grin.

"_**Strike!**_"

A nice curveball, but its slow speed killed most of its effectiveness. The Yokohama's battery was probably trying to psyche him out with a slow ball and follow up with a faster pitch – but if his base speed was this slow, it shouldn't prove to be much of a problem.

Returning his attention to the pitcher, Yōichi lowered himself into batting position. He watched the pitcher wait for the catcher's sign and then nod. The pitcher brought his arms together and then stepped forward. A few short instants later, the ball came flying out towards him.

_Outside!_

He swung, ready to begin running toward first base – and froze, feeling no resistance, as he heard the unmistakable sound of a ball slamming into a mitt behind him.

"_**Strike!**_"

Yōichi frowned, feeling puzzled. How had he missed such an easy fastball and let himself be cornered with a 0-2 count so quickly? Had he swung late? He thought he'd had the timing down – had he gotten too tense?

Swinging his bat once experimentally through the air, he returned to batting position, forcing out a slow breath.

_Concentrate, concentrate. I just have to get on base._

The pitcher nodded at the catcher's sign and raised his mitt to his face. His right arm flung out and the ball came flying down towards Yōichi. Focusing on the spiraling white ball, he tightened his grasp on the bat. It was another easy ball, slightly to the inside. Dropping his heel down firmly, he swung –with a clunking sound, the bat hit the ball into the ground.

Flinging the bat to the ground, Yōichi pumped his feet into the ground, eyes focused on first base. But before he'd gotten even halfway there, the pitcher nimbly ran forward to grab the grounder, and tossed it to the waiting first baseman.

"_**Out!**_"

As he slowed down to a stop, he heard a smattering of cheering from the bleachers on Yokohama's side.

_Tch!_

Quietly fuming on the way back to the dugout, Yōichi slowed down as he passed by Ryōsuke.

"It looked like an easy ball to me, but you should get a better look at it, Ryō-senpai," he muttered. Giving a small nod to indicate that he'd heard, the smiling third-year headed to the batting box.

Taking off his helmet in the dugout, as Yōichi turned around from dropping his bat into the receptacle, he almost bumped into Miyuki, who was leaning against the back wall.

"Even for you, it's odd that you'd miss so completely on such an easy ball," said the second-year catcher, a hint of a smirk on his face. Yōichi scowled, thinking back on the pitch.

"It was slower than I expected it to be," he finally said, throwing himself onto the bench. Wiping a bead of sweat from his temple, he looked back to the field just in time to see Ryōsuke swing – and send the ball into the ground right in front of the pitcher, who threw it to the first baseman.

Watching Ryōsuke begin to return to the bench with a slightly diminished smile on his face, the team fell into surprised silence.

"Mihashi...Mihashi..."

Tearing his gaze away from the third-year, Yōichi saw that Sawamura, sitting on the back bench beside Masuko, had a contemplative look on his face.

"You know something about him?" Miyuki craned his head to look at the first-year.

"I think I remember having played against him before..." Sawamura frowned.

"In middle school?" Yōichi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hm..." Sawamura sounded unconvinced, and with his brow furrowed increasingly deeply, he was beginning to look strained in the way only the most simple-minded could achieve.

"Well don't hurt yourself thinking about it," said Miyuki, sounding amused. "You just focus on your pitching."

Yōichi glanced to the side where Ryōsuke had just stepped down into the dugout.

"What'd you think of the ball, Ryō-senpai?"

"They come in some pretty nasty spots," he replied, taking off his helmet, "but that's all I could get for now."

Yōichi frowned but didn't push the subject; he wasn't exactly up there in terms of batting sense after all, and it wasn't completely unexpected for him to misjudge the timing of a pitch. The uneasiness he'd felt at that fastball was probably nothing – and if he couldn't hit it, he'd just have to aim for the other pitches. He wasn't trying to go for a long one; all he had to do was get on base after all.

Returning his attention to the field, Yōichi winced as Isashiki sent a fly ball to center.

* * *

Kneeling in the on deck circle with the bat perched vertically beside him, Eijun felt his gaze trailing from the scoreboard back to the field.

They were now at the bottom of the third inning. He'd gone through the entire lineup once now without giving up a hit, which he'd expected to an extent. Nobody could get down the timing of his moving balls after just one at-bat; in his first-year, he'd managed to jam even a monster like Raichi with his four-seam, and from what he'd seen of Yokohama's batters, none of them would win in a matchup against Yakushi's cleanup.

But then again, Raichi regularly hit home runs like they were nothing, so perhaps that wasn't such a fair standard to use.

The real surprise though was Yokohama's pitcher, who'd only given up one hit so far up against Seidō's explosive batting power, leaving the score still tied at 0-0. Granted, this was also his first time going through the lineup and his true worth wouldn't be tested until the second cycle – but his pitching form was fairly normal, and his balls maxed at 130 kmh. As expected of the reliable captain, Yūki had managed to make contact with the bat and get on base, but the following three batters had all struck out in succession.

With wary eyes, he watched as Sakai swung at the ball, sending it flying high up. The catcher stood up with his mitt raised, and caught it.

"_**Out!**_"

Using the bat to push himself up, Eijun got to his feet and began to walk towards the batting box.

"_**Batting ninth, pitcher Sawamura.**_"

Tipping his helmet to the umpire, he swung the bat a few times, looking back to the bench for any possible instructions. Seeing that coach Kataoka wasn't making a move, he lowered into the bunting stance. A look of surprise flickered across the pitcher's face, and then he nodded at whatever signal the catcher had sent him.

As the ball came flying out, the pitcher began to run towards him, but Eijun leaned back and watched the ball go past.

"_**Ball!**_"

The pitcher returned to the mound, and Eijun returned to his bunting stance. But as the pitcher flung the ball at him and began to run towards him once more, Eijun quickly switched to his normal batting position, and swung. Feeling the bat make contact – not solid contact, but contact nonetheless – he threw it aside and began to run.

"Second!" he heard the catcher call out. Snapping his head to the side, his feet pounding on the dirt, he saw the second baseman running forward to scoop up the ball. In the same fluid motion, he threw it to the outstretched glove of the first baseman just as Eijun stepped onto the base.

"_**Out!**_" the base umpire cried out.

Though Eijun had been famously ridiculed (or feared) for being the 'god of bunts' during his three years at Seidō, he _had_ worked on his actual batting. He'd never gotten to be as powerful a batter as, say, Furuya, but by his third year, he liked to think his batting had stopped being a liability on the team lineup.

As he trudged back to the bench, he consoled himself with the thought that at least he hadn't struck out swinging like Miyuki.

* * *

Still not having scored by the bottom of the fourth inning, frustration was starting to make itself obvious on the faces of the Seidō team members. It wasn't that they weren't connecting with the ball – but rather, they couldn't seem to get a good handle of the ball. Ryōsuke had managed to get on base, but Isashiki had send his ball flying into foul territory, where it was caught by the right fielder. Yūki had swung sturdily at his ball, but it had miraculously shot right into the pitcher's mitt, who, after a second's astonishment, sent it to first, where Ryōsuke had narrowly avoided being tagged out. Masuko's fly to right had been caught, ending the fourth inning.

And now, it was back to Seidō's defense, and time for Eijun's second battle against the Yokohama cleanups. First up was –

"_**Top of the fifth inning, Yokohama Academy's offense starts with batting cleanup, right fielder, Shigeno.**_"

Shigeno, a third-year, was fairly tall and well-built. Back in Eijun's original timeline, he'd already graduated by the time Eijun had ever gotten a chance to play in a game against Yokohama Academy again, but he'd gone pro right afterwards and been drafted as one of the star rookies of the Yokohama Blue Oceans. Eijun remembered, because Wakana had gotten oddly starstruck with the slugger and wouldn't stop texting about him for the entire winter break of his second year.

From what Eijun could see of him now, however, Shigeno had a lot of power, but tended to swing at difficult pitches.

"_Let's start with a fastball to the inside corner. It's okay if it misses the strike zone._" Miyuki signaled to him.

Eijun nodded, staring down the batter, who glared right back. Bringing his arms together and raising his front leg high up in the air, he stepped forward, slinging his left arm forward at the last moment.

The batter swung, and Eijun watched as the ball flew up into the air to hit the fence with a rattling sound.

"_**Foul!**_"

After Miyuki signaled him for a lower cutter, the batter fouled the ball once more. Against his will, Eijun reluctantly felt some rising respect – especially with the second swing, he'd almost gotten the timing right, as expected of Yokohama's cleanup batter.

Glancing up at the batter, Miyuki seemed to have made a decision about the flow of the game, for he held up his mitt and signaled him for a ball he had not asked for yet.

Eijun nodded. Feeling the sun beating down on the back of his neck, he let out a breath – and then threw.

Obvious power rippling through his arms, the batter began to swing – but his eyes perceptively widened as the ball arced slowly through the air. Unable to stop himself, he completed his swing through empty air, and the ball landed easily in Miyuki's mitt.

"_**Strike! Batter out!**_"

A grin on his face, Eijun clenched his fist in triumph.

If he had to be honest, at the beginning of the game, he hadn't been exactly brimming with confidence over his chances of a perfect game. His current body was smaller and weaker than what he was used to, and even in the month he'd had to adjust to the changes, he hadn't been able to completely shake off the feeling that something was off with his pitching. But with the circle changeup just now as the successful finishing pitch, he could feel some more of his self-assuredness begin to return.

The following cleanups, Azuma and Kitamura, seemed wary of his newly unveiled changeup, and before long, the two lights beside the 'Out' sign on the scoreboard had faded, marking his fifteenth consecutive strike-out.

Eijun felt something thump into his back, and looking back, saw the fielders begin to stream past him to the dugout.

"Nice pitching," Haruichi's older brother said with his customary smile on his face.

"Not bad at all!" said Kuramochi gleefully.

"Though it's only going to get harder from now on," said Miyuki with a smirk.

Feeling a small lump rise in the back of his throat, Eijun mutely ducked down into the dugout. Taking off his cap to wipe some sweat off his brow, he was about to say something to Kuramochi when he heard coach Kataoka's voice.

"Tanba, go into the bullpen and begin warming up," he said.

His cap falling from his suddenly frozen fingers, Eijun's eyes widened. Jumping heatedly to his feet, as jumbled words of protest rose to his lips, he took a step towards the coach. But before he could take another, a firm grasp suddenly tightened around his wrist and jerked him back. Automatically looking down at the hand, he then looked up to see Miyuki, still in his catcher gear, shaking his head at him.

The words catching in his throat, Eijun paused – and then mutely nodded, and was rewarded with a brief look of surprise flashing across the catcher's face.

The Miyuki of this timeline wouldn't realize it of course, but Eijun had long since gotten adept at reading the other boy's body language. "_I understand how you feel" _and "_don't be stupid_" and "_this is more than just about you_" could be understood just from the squeezing of his hand, the creased brow, and the flickering of his eyes to the coach's imposing form.

Taking a breath to calm himself, Eijun picked up his cap and dusted it off. He sat down on the bench, where he was joined soon after by Miyuki, who began to quickly take off his leg guards.

It was natural for at least one pitcher to always be pitching in the bullpen of course. If Eijun failed in his wager with the coach, he'd be called off the mound, and the game couldn't very well end there. Another pitcher would have to take his spot. However – the coach telling Tanba to start warming up had brought back into sharper focus the reason why Eijun was out there pitching on the mound in the first place.

He'd gotten caught up in the current of the game, but now, as he watched Miyuki pick up a bat and head out to the field, his gaze trailed up to the cheering stands, where he had last seen Chris...and there he was. He could just barely see him, standing solitarily nearby one of the bleacher entrances. He couldn't make out his face, but it was probably as cold and emotionless as it had been when Eijun had run into him.

Eijun squeezed his cap tightly between his hands.

_Twelve more outs, Chris-senpai, and I'll get you back where you belong._

* * *

"_**Bottom of the fifth inning, and Seidō High's offense starts with batting sixth, catcher Miyuki.**_"

As Kazuya stepped up to the plate, he glanced at the scoreboard and shook his head wryly. It was hard to believe it, but the score was still tied at 0-0, with Yokohama allowing only three hits so far. It was starting to look like the game would end up being a pitcher's battle; the first team to score would undoubtedly gain momentum and win the game. And while it was still too early to tell, Sawamura was holding up well. Though his pitches had solid power, he was pacing himself with all the audacity of an experienced pitcher, and if he could keep up this pace, he'd be ending the game with stamina to spare.

Best of all, Yokohama's coach looked thunderstruck, the Yokohama team members increasingly fearful, and the watching audience, if the increasing din was any indicator, was slowly beginning to understand what exactly was happening. Even in their own dugout, the other members were beginning to look at Sawamura with growing appreciation in their eyes. It was one thing to observe Sawamura's pitches in practice, and quite another to see him standing there on the mound in front of them, and striking out or jamming each consecutive opposing player.

Gripping his bat and getting into batting position, Kazuya felt another smile playing at the edges of his lips. He hated to admit it, but the fact that a wet behind the ears first-year could have such presence on that mound, while irritating, was reassuring at the same time.

And the very least he could do in return for him would be...

_...to get on base here!_

As the ball came at him, Kazuya swung, and felt the bat connect with a cracking sound. Pushing it forward, he watched the ball fly straight into the shortstop's glove.

_...oops._

"_**Out!**_"

* * *

**A/N: **The reason why this chapter took so long is because I struggled with how to make a baseball game interesting in writing...and I'm not sure if I succeeded. Oh well.

Thank you all for your reviews! Please, don't be afraid to tell me what you think, so I can improve for the follow-up in the next chapter!

I actually intended on ending on a more exciting note, but the chapter was getting too long...so I'm cutting it here. The next chapter, we will see whether Eijun manages the perfect game or not...!

* * *

**- Glossary -**

Batting average (BA) = A measure of a batter's success rate in achieving a hit during an at bat, calculated by the number of hits divided by at bats (1.000 being 100% hitting rate).

Fly ball = A ball that is hit in the air, usually very high. Fielders attempt to catch fly balls on their descent.

Pop fly = A specific type of fly ball that goes very high while not traveling very far laterally. From the perspective of the fielder, pop-ups seem to come straight down.

Grounder = A batted ball that rolls or bounces on the ground.

**- (canon) Sawamura Eijun Batting Data -**

Defence (4/5) Shoulder – 4

Running (3/5)

Physical strength (4/5)

Mental strength (4/5)

Batting (1/5) Contact – 2, power – 2

**- (TTOL) Sawamura Eijun Batting Data -**

Defence (4/5) Shoulder – 4

Running (3/5)

Physical strength (4/5)

Mental strength (5/5)

Batting (3/5) Contact – 3, power – 3

**- Note of Interest -**

* In MLB, the record for highest career batting average goes to Ty Cobb (Detroit Tigers) with a BA of .367. Babe Ruth (New York Yankees), widely considered to be the greatest player in baseball history, had a career BA of .342. *


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Passing Sakai on the way back to the dugout, Kazuya stripped off his batting gloves and sat down on the bench. Crossing his arms across his chest, he directed a calculating look at the opposing team's battery.

They'd come at him from the first pitch, probably having realized how eager he was to hit. The ball had looked like an easy fastball so he'd swung without thinking too much about it – and his at bat had ended as soon as it started.

Silently, he watched as Shirasu swung; the ball flew high up into the air, hitting the fence with a rattling sound for a second foul. On the third pitch, Shirasu completely missed the ball, swinging through empty air.

Kazuya's eyes narrowed. Meanwhile, the Yokohama stands burst into cheers and Sawamura moved to the on deck circle.

Batting eighth, Sakai watched the first ball and on the second pitch, sent it flying into the air, which was caught by the pitcher, ending the inning.

"Keh!" Isashiki let out a bark-like laugh. "So that's what it was. That pitcher had a ball like that up his sleeve."

"And they waited until we started getting used to his pitches before slipping it in..." said Ryōsuke, with a rather scary look on his face. "Well, all that means is that we'll just have to get used to his one too."

Kazuya felt his lips quirk up in a smile, not surprised in the slightest that the upperclassmen had already caught on. It seemed that Sawamura wasn't the only pitcher around with an odd fastball – though in this case, he wouldn't strictly call it a 'moving' ball. It was simply deceptive.

Kazuya remembered back to the first inning, in which Kuramochi had completely missed the ball. He'd teased him for it then, but thinking it over now, Yokohama's battery had most likely used the pitch they were beginning to show more frequently now. Having seen it head-on only once for himself, he couldn't tell exactly _how_ it was deceptive, but if he had to guess, he'd say it hadn't come down in the place where he'd been expecting it to.

However, some weird pitches by themselves shouldn't have been able to fend off a powerful batting team like Seidō for this long. To be able to discretely and effectively mix in an idiosyncratic pitch like that...

_Heh. Their catcher must really be something._

* * *

Sitting in the shade of the Yokohama dugout, Abe took an aggravated swig from his water bottle as he looked out over the field. It was in between the fifth and sixth innings, and Seidō's players had already filed out with rakes for field maintenance. Their catcher and pitcher were throwing a ball back and forth in their bullpen, and as he watched, Abe's frown turned into a scowl.

"Keep that up and your face's gonna freeze like that one day," said Shigeno from beside him, as he tossed a ball in his hand.

"My aunt used to say that!" said Izumi, turning around with a short laugh. He was leaning against the railing beside Tajima, who'd rushed there as soon as Seidō's catcher and pitcher had come out. With his eyes glued on their throwing forms, he hadn't moved since.

"I'm surprised you can laugh," Shimizu grouched. "You realize we haven't gotten even a single hit off of that first-year yet?"

"You can't see his arm when he throws until it's too late," said Kitamura, as he pulled off his shirt. "The ball really does look faster when it's coming at you, then when you're watching from the side."

"And his four-seam's at least 140 as it is," Shimizu muttered. "I can't get a handle on his pitches at all."

"It's not just you, it's all of us," said Izumi with a shrug. He nudged the boy beside him. "Tajima, you getting anything?"

"...he's got a seriously consistent pitching form while his balls break erratically in all four directions," said Tajima, though his eyes remained focused on their opposing pitcher. "He's a great pitcher."

"Think you can hit?" said Shigeno.

"If I know what's coming, I can," said Tajima, growing still as he always did when he was being absolutely serious.

"And that's the other problem," said Abe, his brow furrowing. "Their catcher."

"He's reading us like an open book," Izumi agreed.

"Miyuki Kazuya..." said Shigeno, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard of him. There was an article about him."

They fell silent, looking back out at the catcher and pitcher duo. Abe took another swig from his water bottle.

"I can't say too much about his defensive play yet," he finally said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "But that catcher's dangerous."

* * *

"_**Bottom of the sixth inning, Seidō High's offense starts with batting ninth, pitcher, Sawamura.**_"

Stretching his shoulders in the on-deck circle, Yōichi watched Sawamura get into batting position. He'd been a little surprised to learn that Sawamura's batting wasn't all that bad. Yōichi had thought he'd be the kind of pitcher who sucked at batting and acted as a handicap to the team, but his stance was confident and relaxed.

However, that didn't stop him from hitting a grounder straight to the second baseman. As the red light next to 'Out' flicked on, Sawamura slunk past, and Yōichi got to his feet. He turned to look at coach Kataoka, but all he signed to him was to watch the first pitch, and then to hit.

"C'mon, Kuramochi!"

"Don't get fooled by the pitcher!"

"Kuramochi-senpai!"

Yōichi grimaced, as shouts rained down on him from both the dugout and the stands. This was his third at-bat. If he didn't get on base here – well, what kind of leadoff would he be?

"Play!"

For a few seconds, the pitcher stared back at him, leaning slightly forward. Nodding his head once, he straightened up, bringing his mitt to his face.

In his first at-bat, the pitcher's deciding pitch had been what looked like a fastball, and in his last at-bat, it had been a curveball that he'd popped up. But since the last inning, they had been mixing in fastballs more and more frequently.

Yōichi glared, his hands tightening over the handle of his bat. He'd bet on the fastball, then.

Stepping off the rubber, the pitcher flung his arm forward and the ball shot out at him. Yōichi watched it pass by.

"_**Strike!**_"

It'd been a slider. But before he could worry about whether they'd be throwing him a fastball or not, the pitcher was already throwing the second pitch. Gritting his teeth, Yōichi swung – with a clang, the ball flew high up into foul territory.

"_**Foul!**_"

And again, he'd been cornered at 0-2.

The pitcher was smiling, and in response, Yōichi felt his scowl deepen. He adjusted his footing, and lowered back into the same batting stance.

The next ball came flying out on a tight course to the inside. Not trusting himself to be able to hit it well, Yōichi swung a few split seconds earlier than he might have, hoping to foul it off – and to his surprise, heard the tell-tale cracking sound of metal meeting ball.

Immediately throwing the bat aside with a clatter, he raced to first base. He could hear shouts but ignoring it, he focused on the base that tauntingly beckoned towards him – and only once Yōichi felt the hard surface underneath his foot did he begin to slow down.

"_**Safe!**_"

The right fielder threw the ball back to the pitcher, and Yōichi grinned widely as he took off his elbow guard. It felt good to finally feel some soreness in his legs.

"_**Batting second, second baseman, Kominato.**_"

Yōichi looked in the direction of their dugout, but the coach hadn't moved since his initial signs. It seemed he was leaving it up to them. He turned to look at Ryōsuke, who was now in batting position on the right side of the plate, and then at the pitcher.

Taking a few steps lead away from first base, he kept his front firmly facing the pitcher. The pitcher looked at him once, and then back at Ryōsuke. The pitcher went in the set; as soon as the pitcher's arm pulled back, Yōichi dashed toward second.

There was a loud clamor; as soon as Yōichi had slid to second, he looked back, and saw the catcher looking at him with a frustrated look, the ball clutched in his hand. With a scowl, he threw the ball back to the pitcher.

The pitcher went into the set, this time staying still for several seconds. Yōichi tensed up, getting ready. And then he threw; Yōichi watched Ryōsuke swing, and as soon as the bat had made contact, he ran towards third.

Sliding onto the plate, he heard the base umpire at first cry out, "_**Safe!**_"

Turning around, Yōichi saw Ryōsuke on first. The pitcher raised his mitt to catch the ball from the left fielder.

"_**Batting third, center fielder, Isashiki.**_"

* * *

In the shadow of the dugout, Kazuya watched as Isashiki swung with a fierce battle cry. With a satisfying cracking sound, the ball connected with the bat and flew through the air towards center. Diving forward, the center fielder reached out with his glove and caught the ball – and immediately, Kuramochi dashed towards home plate. Still on the ground, the fielder twisted upward and threw. The ball gleamed whitely as it was thrown to the shortstop, who threw it toward the catcher.

But it was too late; Kuramochi slid on his legs, touching the home plate a full second before being tagged. Instantly, Seidō's stands burst into cheers, as on the scoreboard, a glowing 1 finally appeared beside Seidō's name.

"Nice running, Kuramochi!"

"Close one, Jun!"

"Keep it going, Yūki-senpai!"

Isashiki made a growling sound of discontent as he stepped down into the dugout with a grinning Kuramochi right behind him. Higasa – one of the reserve players – offered cups of water to the two returning players. In response, Isashiki grabbed the cup and downed the water in one fierce gulp – before carefully giving it back to Higasa.

"Thanks," he added, before plunking himself down on the bench with a dissatisfied look on his face.

"Don't mind it," Kazuya offered.

"Hyaha! You sure you should be the one saying that, Miyuki?" said Kuramochi, turning to Kazuya with a gloating look on his face. Kazuya felt himself sweat. But thankfully, before Kuramochi could say anything else, they were interrupted by the sound of a resounding cracking sound. Kazuya turned to see the ball bullet past the first baseman's outstretched glove.

"It went through the outfield!"

"Nice one, Tetsu!"

Amid the cheering in the dugout, Kazuya got to his feet, picking up his bat with a wry smile on his face.

_Yūki-senpai sure is reliable._

Climbing out of the dugout, he kneeled down in the on-deck circle and looked around the field. They had two outs, but Ryōsuke was on third and Yūki was on second. As for the defense...the outfielders didn't appear to have moved, but the first and third basemen had moved in: it seemed they were gambling on taking out Ryōsuke at home and ending the inning.

Masuko, sturdy as a rock as usual, lowered into a batting stance. The pitcher – who didn't look as affected by the recent hits as Kazuya as hoped – nodded. Then drawing his arm back, he threw. Masuko swung strongly, and –

"_**Foul!**_"

Ryōsuke and Yūki returned to their bases. The pitcher raised his mitt to catch the ball. Nodding after a few seconds at his catcher's signal, he raised his mitt to his face and then threw.

With a powerful swing, Masuko's bat met the ball with a booming sound. The ball flew sharply to the outfield in a long line drive. Following its path with his eyes, Kazuya felt a thrill run through his body, and he shot up to his feet. It was going far – no, it was going to go over the fen –

A figure in white leaped up, and pushing off the fence, reached impossibly high into the air. He tumbled to the ground, landing on his front. Kazuya waited with bated breath – but a second later, the fielder lifted up his glove to reveal a white ball.

"_**Out!**_" the umpire shouted. "_**Three outs – change!**_"

The Yokohama fielders whooped as they rushed back to their dugout, tackling and patting the back of their right fielder. Meanwhile, the Seidō players, with incredulous looks on their faces, also returned to their dugout.

Kazuya hefted his bat up on his shoulder. While he was careful to leave the disappointment out of his face, the lost chance did feel a bit frustrating. That would've been a three-run homer, and they would've ended the sixth inning with at least a 4 run lead – pretty much guaranteeing their win. But now, while they were still in the lead with Kuramochi's run, Yokohama's right fielder's fine play had pretty much robbed them of their newly-earned momentum.

Just as he turned around to walk back to the dugout, Kazuya felt something cold land on his cheek, and paused. Lifting his hand to his face, he realized it was water. In confusion, he looked up, and saw that grey clouds had started to roil about, gathering above the stadium.

_Is it going to rain...?_

* * *

Eijun tossed the ball in his hand as he looked up at the scoreboard. The long line of zeroes beside Seidō's name had finally been interrupted with a '1' but after Masuko's near homerun, it looked more taunting than anything.

Turning back around, he saw Miyuki sitting down in the catcher's box. Miyuki raised his mitt, and with a nod, Eijun threw. The ball landed in the mitt with a satisfyingly resounding sound, and Miyuki nodded at him before arching his arm back to throw the ball back.

"Nice pitch," he said. "Keep it up Sawamura."

Eijun nodded, glancing at the dugout. Even if he hadn't been aiming for a perfect game, this inning would be especially crucial. The Yokohama players were pumped up from the miraculous save of the last inning, and their lineup would be coming back around to the leadoffs in this one. It was the perfect chance for their counterattack.

"_**Top of the seventh inning, Yokohama Academy's offense starts with batting first, left fielder, Shimizu.**_"

The batter stepped up to the plate, a mixture of anxiety and determination etched on his face.

"_A four-seam to the inside,_" Miyuki signaled, and Eijun nodded. Facing the home plate with his knees slightly bent, he glared down at the batter – whose eyes lightly widened. Then, raising his leg, he clenched his right hand before flinging his left hand out with his full strength.

The batter visibly flinched slightly backward, and the ball landed in Miyuki's raised mitt.

"_**Strike!**_"

Eijun held up his mitt to receive back the ball. As he waited for Miyuki's signal, he could hear the shouting coming from Yokohama's dugout.

"C'mon, Shimizu!"

"Don't be afraid of the ball!"

"Shimizu!"

"_Same pitch, but outside and low,_" Miyuki signaled. He looked meaningfully up at the batter, who drew a slow breath and swung the bat once before lowering back into batting stance.

Eijun nodded, and with another glare at the batter, he threw. This time, the batter swung – and with a clunking sound, the ball landed on the ground, before bouncing up. Kuramochi dashed forward to grab it, and threw it to Yūki at first base.

"_**Out!**_" cried the umpire, and Seidō's stands erupted into cheers.

"Nice pitching, Sawamura!"

"Keep it up!"

The inning continued, and the next batter was sent off similarly with a grounder. As Eijun watched the batter return to his dugout, where his teammates were slapping him on the back encouragingly, he allowed himself a small grin.

"_**Batting third, third baseman, Tajima.**_"

With a look of absolute concentration on his face, the batter stared determinedly back at Eijun, and he felt his heart beat faster.

This would be his third cycle through Yokohama's infamous four cleanup lineup, and it began here, with this third-hole. If Eijun didn't give it his best, he knew without a doubt that he would regret it.

A tingling sense of what could only be called excitement swept like a current through his body, and his grin widened.

_Sorry, but this is for Chris-senpai. I'm not letting a single one of you on base this game._

Nodding at Miyuki's signal, he brought his hands together and threw. Without any hesitation, the batter swung, and –

"_**Strike!**_"

Eijun raised his mitt to catch the ball, noticing that the batter didn't look too taken aback. He muttered something inaudible to himself, and adjusted his footing. Miyuki, noticing this, lowered his mitt.

"_Best not let him breathe in between pitches. Give me a cutter, low and inside."_

Eijun nodded, quickly adjusting his grip on the ball in his mitt, before throwing.

"_**Ball!**_"

And now the ball count was at 1-1. Eijun waited, watching the batter readjust his footing again. As soon as the batter had returned to his batting stance, Miyuki signaled to him.

Stepping down hard on the mound, Eijun flung his arm out, and watched his ball hurtle towards Miyuki's mitt. The batter swung, and with a cracking sound, his bat met the ball.

Taken aback, Eijun turned around with bated breath to follow the ball as it cut through the air, his heart beginning to thump wildly – and then it dropped down. Isashiki, leaping forward, just barely managed to catch it at the tip of his outstretched glove.

"_**Out!**_"

As Isashiki let out a vindictive roar – likely out of memory of his last at-bat – Eijun took off his cap and wiped the sweat off his brow.

* * *

Kazuya could hardly believe it, but it was true: for seven straight innings now, Sawamura hadn't let a single runner on base. Of course, some of it had to do with his leading – Kazuya wasn't going to be modest – but none of the opposing batters seemed to be able to get a good grasp on Sawamura's arsenal of breaking and moving fastballs, made formidable by his late pitching delivery. Combined with Seidō's solid defense, most of the batters until now had either struck out or been unable to hit a ball past the infield.

The next inning would be their true final obstacle – the last three 'cleanups' of Yokohama's lineup awaited. When the three-hole Tajima had come up to bat, Kazuya had briefly wondered if Sawamura would start tensing up – since he was still a first-year after all, and no one could be immune to pressure – but had been taken aback to see Sawamura grinning on the mound.

Of course, if Isashiki hadn't managed to catch that last ball, that would've been the end of the perfect game. But regardless, Sawamura hadn't lost, and his streak was now at twenty-one outs, zero hits.

"_**Bottom of the seventh inning, Seidō High's offense starts with batting sixth, catcher, Miyuki.**_"

Kazuya raised his bat, feeling a small smile playing at his lips.

The pitcher's arm flung out and the ball came flying out, breaking toward him – a slider – and Kazuya swung. With a clang, the ball shot straight into foul territory.

"_**Foul!**__"_

Glancing down at the catcher, Kazuya quickly returned to batting position. From what he'd seen so far in this game, the catcher had called for pitches in a way similar to how Kazuya himself may have done – at least, with a pitcher specializing in control, the way this one obviously did. He'd noticed, while the two threw back to each other before the inning, that the catcher's mitt didn't move at all while catching the ball.

_Now...if I were Yokohama's catcher, what would I throw here?_

The pitcher nodded at the catcher's sign, and then the ball was shooting straight toward him. Kazuya swung, and connecting with a sharp cracking sound, the ball flew straight past the first baseman's outstretched glove.

Throwing aside the bat, Kazuya easily slid to first base.

"Nice batting, Miyuki!"

"So you _can_ do it without runners on base!"

Passing his elbow guard to the first base coach, Kazuya felt himself sweat. That'd definitely been Kuramochi.

The inning continued: Shirasu followed with a bunt, and Kazuya moved to second. However, Sakai hit a pop fly to the shortstop, and with Sawamura batting next, Kazuya had all but given up on scoring that inning, when to his – and everyone else's – immense shock, Sawamura swung strongly at the ball, hitting it in a line drive to the outfield.

Snapping himself out of his astonishment, Kazuya ran to third, where he was waved at to keep running. Hearing shouting from the outfield, he dashed towards the home plate, watching the catcher holding out his mitt. As a streak of white flew through the air to the catcher's mitt, Kazuya slid on his feet, keeping his body low against the ground, and –

"_**Safe!**_"

"Yeah! Second run!"

"What was that, Sawamura?!"

"Nice running!"

Getting to his feet, Kazuya jogged back to the dugout, staring out at the field where Sawamura was standing on second. In the case of that first-year pitcher, it really was just one surprise after another.

Suddenly, a murmur of surprise swept through the stands; at the sound, Kazuya looked in their direction, and found that most of them were looking up. Joining them, Kazuya tilted his head back and then blinked, as drops of water landed on his sports glasses, muddying his vision.

It had finally started to rain.

_So much for today's weather forecast._

* * *

The rain was coming down so quietly and gently, it almost felt like a cool mist to Eijun's skin, and oddly enough, it reminded him of something that he couldn't quite put a finger on. Tentatively, he tested the mound under his foot, but to his relief, it was still firm. He wouldn't have to worry about his footing slipping – losing the perfect game because of a wild pitch would been awful.

"How does it feel?" Miyuki asked, walking toward him from the catcher's box.

"Fine," said Eijun, stamping on the dirt. "The rain shouldn't be a problem."

"Good. You've only thrown about 60 pitches – you're pacing yourself well," Miyuki said, turning around to head back. "Just two more innings to go."

"_**Top of the eighth inning, and Yokohama Academy's offense starts with batting cleanup, right fielder Shigeno.**_"

It was strange, though. The forecast for that day had predicted only a 2% chance of rain. But then again, Eijun thought with a shrug, a 2% chance still meant that rain hadn't been out of the question. He supposed, if the wind moved a certain way and the clouds moved in exactly a certain way so that they gathered over the Tokyo area – then, it would rain.

Watching the built cleanup step up to the plate, Eijun idly thought to himself that he didn't remember it raining in this particular game back in his original timeline.

And then a few seconds later, as the implications of that dawned on him, he froze.

_It didn't rain before...?_

Dazedly taking in Miyuki's signs, Eijun's eyes wildly flickered from the catcher's mitt – to his face – to the batter's determined face – the umpire's expectant face – and then back to Miyuki.

Was he remembering things wrongly, or were things in this world already changing from his own timeline? No – he remembered watching this game before. That had been the day he'd first witnessed Furuya's pitching, and had first realized how imposing the obstacle between he and the ace position was. But now, instead of Furuya, it was Eijun standing on the mound. And on a day it hadn't rained – when it shouldn't have rained – rain was coldly and surely coming down. Nobody in the stands had brought an umbrella, so most had settled for bearing it, or had taken out a jacket.

Nobody had thought it would rain. But it was raining now.

His heart was beginning to pound in his chest. Eijun blinked, and then realized that Miyuki's mitt was still raised expectantly toward him. His body moved automatically, and he threw, his foot slamming down on the mound. The batter swung fully, sending the ball flying past Eijun, who was too dazed to turn and follow it, and –

"_**Foul!**_"

The Yokohama dugout was cheering for their cleanup, but Eijun had stopped registering all external sounds. Because _this was what he had been afraid of_. He had been afraid of the events of the past changing – of a butterfly flapping its wings and starting a hurricane, a hurricane that he would be unable to control, a hurricane that would blast him out from this time, which he already barely felt like he had a grasp on.

Suddenly, Eijun realized why the rain had felt so familiar. Just before he had passed out in the shower and woken up in the past, it had been this sensation of cold water and mist on his face...

Miyuki motioned with his hands, and with a jolt, Eijun realized that the catcher had just signaled to him twice, with an increasingly concerned look on his face. Jerking his head, Eijun felt his body follow through with the motions. The ball came flying out of his hand, and the batter swung, and again –

"_**Foul!**_"

Eijun knew now – he wouldn't be able to bet on everything happening the same way it had before in his timeline, because _chance_ was _chance_, and if it rained on a day that the forecast had predicted a 2% chance, then _anything_ was possible, and liable, to change. It was all a matter of chance.

Things were going to change, and Eijun would be at the mercy of the future, just like everyone else.

And maybe, just maybe, the games wouldn't go smoothly this time around. Maybe a play would turn unexpectedly violent. Maybe a player would be switched out for a pinch runner, who would run desperately to home base, even if it meant ramming into the catcher...

_Maybe Miyuki will get hurt again._

Feeling cold all over, Eijun immediately began to tremble. If he let anything happen to Miyuki again, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself. But if even the weather could change, how was he supposed to know what else would?

He'd thought that he'd put such questions aside, but now, they were bubbling up inside him even more fiercely than before. Why had he been sent to the past? Had it really been to take Miyuki and Seidō to Kōshien? Who had sent him? And if he did, what would happen?

"Time!"

The sound of Miyuki's voice cut sharply through the haze of his mind, and Eijun looked up, startled, to see the catcher heading toward him. The other infielders were also walking toward him, with varying levels of concern on their faces.

"What's wrong, Sawamura?" Miyuki asked. "You're completely out of it."

"Hyaha! Don't tell me you're finally feeling the pressure?" Kuramochi snickered. "Do you have that little faith in us?"

"We're all behind you, Sawamura," said Yūki, with a serious nod.

"Pitch to contact, Sawamura-chan," said Masuko.

"You're not alone," said Haruichi's older brother.

"Just don't forget to look at my mitt," Miyuki said with a grin.

Eijun blinked. And miraculously – like a spell being broken, he suddenly felt warmth spreading through his body, dispelling the cold. He dropped his head, lowering the rim of his baseball cap with a hand so that it would cover his face.

"Yes!" he shouted. He heard the others begin to return to their positions – Kuramochi aimed a light kick at his back before leaving – and when he raised his head, Miyuki was back in the catcher's box.

Eijun let out a slow breath, and locked gazes with the batter.

"Play!"

Since Eijun had become captain of the Seidō baseball team at the end of his second year, he had gotten so used to the responsibility of leading the team that he'd forgotten just how much he could depend on them. He had forgotten that now, back in the past as he was – he was just a first-year pitcher again.

That was right. Whatever else changed, Seidō's team members hadn't changed. They were defending the field behind him.

And in front of him, Miyuki was leading him. He wasn't hurt. He was moving. Breathing. Laughing. And now, he was waiting for Eijun's pitch, with his mitt held up toward him. It was the sight Eijun had longed for in the future, when it had no longer become possible.

But it was possible now. And the best Eijun could do...

_...__**is **__**to aim for his mitt**__!_

Slamming his foot down on the mound, his teeth gritted, Eijun thrust the ball forward. His cap falling off from the momentum, he watched the ball as it moved, as if in slow motion, towards the waiting batter.

But just as the ball began to curve towards the plate, the batter took a step back, tightening his grip on the bat, and then swung powerfully at the ball. There was a loud cracking sound, and with wide eyes – unable to react in time, for he was only human – Eijun watched as the ball shot through the air past him.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter was super hard to write...sorry about the extra little angst at the ending, but Eijun does get over it fairly quickly, so there's that.

1) I know that Miyuki saying "don't mind" is kind of weird when translated into English, but the "donmai" they say to each other is so endearing to me that I had to use it.

2) I know I don't usually include honorifics, but Masuko calls Eijun 'Sawamura-chan' which I also found endearing.

**Thanks for your reviews!**

* * *

**- Glossary -**

Line drive = A type of batted ball, sharply hit, and on (or slightly above) a level trajectory.

**- Note of Interest**** -**

* I did not edit this chapter. Haha. Oh boy. I will probably update this later when I'm less tired with a real note of interest. For now, you get this. *


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